


Hazelnuts and Bitter Herbs

by Nenilein



Series: Dawn of the New World: Post-Game Saga [2]
Category: Tales of Symphonia, Tales of Symphonia: Dawn of the New World
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Existential Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 70,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24610834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nenilein/pseuds/Nenilein
Summary: In the ancient war 4000 years ago, a Summon Spirit found his kindness and friendship repaid with lies and deceit.In the reunited world, a boy found himself saved from nightmares and despair by friendship and love.Both are the same person, and Emil has to live with that fact and all the memories that come with it, even if it means delving back into nightmares.A story exploring Ratatosk's relationship with his former Summoner, Mithos, and how it affects Emil in the present.
Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving, Emil Castagnier/Marta Lualdi, Marta Lualdi/Ratatosk, Ratatosk & Mithos Yggdrasill
Series: Dawn of the New World: Post-Game Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842211
Comments: 22
Kudos: 25





	1. A Silent Awareness

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes before we begin:
> 
> *) This fic is almost entirely finished right now. I've got 7 chapters written so far and will definitely not write more than 10+epilogue. So this isn't holding up any of my other projects. Actually, this is an idea I've had in the works since back in 2015. It's just that I'm only now getting around to actually publishing it.
> 
> *) Rather than going with the popular fandom interpretation that Emil's personality split again at the end of the game, I am going with the explanation from Symphonia's lead writers, which states that only his *power* as Ratatosk split, but they're still one and the same. So in this story "Emil" and "Ratatosk" no longer exist as separate personalities. Rather, I'm trying to portray a character somewhere in the middle. I personally find that a more challenging take to write.
> 
> *) I haven't played Tales of the Rays, but have watched the majority of its scenes (I speak Japanese), enough to know that this (hopefully) shouldn't contradict anything about Ratatosk's and Mithos' pasts established in that game. If you end up finding any contradictions after all, I am sorry. That game's story is ungodly long, I don't think I could ever watch an entire walkthrough of it to catch everything.
> 
> *) Marta/Emil and Colette/Lloyd, with some hints of Richter/Emil. Marta/Emil is here because it's canon and Colette/Lloyd is here because getting her Flanoir Scene is the easiest and because ignoring Lloyd's post-game Exsphere journey here would be odd.
> 
> Anyway, let's go.

It was quiet, so quiet in the holy forest of Kharlan. Not many outside the elven folk knew of the secrets held by these woods. But the siblings were aware. They’d heard the stories many a time over in the time they’d spent living among the ancient folk of the beautiful, and thus they lowered their heads in reverence as they stepped through the forests, much to the confusion of their friends. And then there it was, the ancient Tree, spring of all Mana, all life. They could not help but gasp when they saw it, standing before them in all its glory. Yet, the otherworldly beauty was marred.

“This is worse than I expected. The leaves are already falling!” the lady in green, her name was Martel, spoke, one hand gently placed on the old bark.

“So, this is the result of the two kingdoms’ Mana-depletion…?” asked the red-headed Kratos, only human among the group.

His half-elven friend, Yuan, solemnly shook his head, “Not the result. Just the process. If this continues, the end will be far… far more tragic.”

“How awful…” Finally, the youngest of the group, Mithos, took the word, “Sister, if we used magic- ”

But Martel shook her head, “It won’t suffice. I know of no healing magic powerful enough to undo this damage. To begin with, it isn’t magic’s nature to heal, rather than destroy.”

He wanted to disagree with her, but could not find the right words to do so, so Mithos just stared up the lush, yet slowly dying foliage of the ancient Tree, watching the light dance through its canopy. He knew that soon enough, these branches would be barren, and then the earth would follow. Plants, beasts, monsters and people, the planet itself would slowly decline and perish until nothing was left but the dead, demonic realm the ancient elves of Derris-Kharlan had once found this world as. Mithos found himself praying, no, pleading to find a way to save this world, to let this Tree live and let this world go on long enough for them to find a place where he and his sister could live a peaceful, happy life. He wanted them to live!

…And though Mithos never voiced these thoughts, that moment it was as if the holy forest itself responded to his begging. It began with a rustling that called their attention from up above in the Giant Kharlan Tree’s branches, and then, before any of the four could even think of stepping away from the clearing, there he was: A boy, just a little older than Mithos, with ashen hair and tan skin fell out of the Tree’s canopy, right to Mithos’ feet.

“…!”

Mithos leapt and drew his weapon, expecting an ambush, but once the boy touched the ground he collapsed there, his head cushioned by the soft gras. Carefully, Mithos put his sword away and bent down.

“H…Hello? Are you alright…?”

There was no response.

“Sister! Sister, quick! That boy…” Mithos went down onto his knees to try and see what was ailing the stranger. “No…he’s not breathing! Sister…!”

“Don’t worry, Mithos,” Martel said, placing a hand on her brother’s shoulder. She too, knelt down by the stranger’s side.

“But… sister! He’s…”

“He is not dead. Mithos, can you feel this Mana?”

“…!”

Now that Martel had said this, Mithos indeed noticed it, this aura that in no way resembled either, a human or elf. And that wasn’t all; he also noticed the strange markings all over the boys’ body, his unusual way of dress, the beastlike features all over his body, starting with his ears, fluffy patches of fur on his shoulders, his fang-like teeth…

“Yes. I believe this boy is a Summon Spirit.”

* * *

It was quiet, so quiet in this room in the small house he shared with her in Luin. Emil didn’t like the quiet. It was times like these when he liked to hum to himself while doing the chores. A note for a broom stroke, a phrase for a wipe with the wet cloth. Before he knew it, the entire house was neat and tidy, with not a single item out of place. Of course, that wasn’t a big accomplishment; The young couple hadn’t been living here for too long and right now their shared abode was still rather empty. But that would change with time. Every new item would become a memory, and they’d gather them as they needed them. That’s what they’d decided together.

“I wonder when Marta will come home…” Emil mumbled to himself, gazing outside the window forlornly.

He knew that Marta was often busy. There were many things in this world for her to take care of, many lose ends to tie up, blood guilt as well as the work she’d dedicated herself to of her own free will. Emil liked to support her in her ordeals as much as he could, but in times like these, when there was nothing he could do to help, he tended to feel a little useless.

“You appear quite dejected today, my Lord. May I assume you didn’t sleep well?”

Emil turned a little, “Tenebrae…”

The jet-black Centurion was sitting on the floor next to him, attentively looking up at his Master. Emil hadn’t expected to find him there. These days Tenebrae was busy administrating the darkness-elemental Mana of the world and thus his visits were sporadic, but sometimes he would just show up where they were without announcement, emerging from the shadows like he had done just now.

“Um, it’s… No, it’s nothing like that,” Emil shook his head. “And don’t call me ‘Lord’. We talked about this, didn’t we? Until the natural end of, um, ‘this’ lifespan, I’m just Emil.”

“That does not change who you are,” Tenebrae said.

“…You’re right. It doesn’t.”

Emil sighed. Sometimes it was tempting to think of himself that way, as ‘just Emil’, just a human with a mortal life and no special powers, but that didn’t change the fact that when it was quiet and no one was around, he could distinctly sense the pulsing of the part of his own tremendous power he had left behind in the Ginnungagap, concentrated in the jewel he had placed on Richter’s forehead. It was still there, still part of him, and indeed, “Emil” as he existed right now, too, wasn’t ‘just’ the meek human boy Marta had saved from a beast in the Sinoa Lakebed a year ago. Ratatosk’s courage, his boldness and brashness… his anger. They were all still there right underneath the surface, part of him, like his gentleness and sweetness, his kind, empathetic heart. Rather than being two separate people, they were halves that had blended and mixed to become a single, unified whole. He often had a feeling as if long ago this was the way he used to be, the way he was _supposed_ to be, but whenever he tried to reach behind the endlessly thin, silken veil that covered those ancient memories in the back of his mind, he found himself flinching away, terrified of even just the scent of the powerful feelings hidden behind. One day he would have to pull that veil away. He knew that it was his duty as the Summon Spirit of withered Tree to carry and maintain the knowledge and wisdom of the bygone ages. But for now, he just wanted to make the best he could of the time he had with Marta.

The sound of a knock pulled Emil out of his thoughts and as Tenebrae, just to be sure, hid his own presence, Emil turned to the door.

“Yes? I’m home. Who’s there?”

The door cracked and swung open and in stepped a figure dressed in distinctive pink. Enthusiastic, exaggerated gestures and a bright grin greeted Emil.

“Why, he~llo there, Emil, my buddy! Oh, cutie Marta isn’t here? Shame, shame,”

“Zelos,” A little surprised, Emil got up from his chair and brushed the wrinkles out of his pants. “No, Marta is out speaking on behalf of the Vanguard at a hearing right now… What brings you here?”

“Just you then, huh? Oh. Well, I can make do~!”

Before Emil could even think to complain about Zelos’ dismissive body language or the forcefully disappointed tone in his voice, the red-head had already tossed a flashy, yellow envelope with such expert precision that it landed and halted exactly in the middle of the table between them. Emil eyed the envelope curiously.

“What’s that?” he reached to pick it up.

“An invitation,” Zelos explained. “You know how Lloyd and us others are holding a reunion about once a year for the entire World Regeneration Group? Well, this year dearest Marta and you happen to be invited. Nice, right?”

Already Emil had opened the envelope by gently sliding his finger underneath the lash and pulling out and unfolding the contents. His eyes were wandering across the letter inside, top to bottom.

“…A picnic… In the World Tree’s forest?”

“What? Too sacrilegious?”

Emil knew that Zelos must’ve read this expression there. He indeed couldn’t help but find the idea just a tad tasteless.

“Hey, relax! We got Martel’s permission, you know. It’s all good.”

Well, then maybe _Martel_ was a tad tasteless.

“I don’t know about this… I mean, me and that forest… It’s a bit…”

“Hm, what? Is the part of you that’s Ratatosk still mad somebody took his job while you were taking a nap?”

“No, that’s not it… Well, not all of it…”

It was difficult. Right on Emil’s tongue, but he couldn’t quite put it into words. This feeling of foreboding and discomfort, and maybe even anxiety.

“Hey, if you don’t like the idea, you don’t have to come. You know, I wouldn’t mind spending some time with our sweet, little Marta without you around!”

That sentence of Zelos’ immediately made Emil snap to attention, swiping away whatever doubts there may have been.

“No, I’ll be there!” he loudly declared, just a hint of his more temperamental side’s fire in his eyes.

Zelos smirked. Emil didn’t know it, but he’d just been manipulated. ‘Conned into his luck’, some would call it. No way in this world would Zelos have allowed a reunion to happen without all those Lloyd had wanted to invite accounted for and present.

“Well then! That settles it!” Tethe’alla’s Ex-Chosen clapped his hands together and headed for the door. “In 20 days at the new World Tree. See you there!”

Zelos left and the room was quiet. Until Tenebrae, who had chosen to stay hidden throughout the entirety of the visit, showed himself again, Emil, for a brief moment felt entirely on his own, the lavishly decorated invitation in his hands feeling like it was made of heavy, rough sandpaper.

“A party, hm?” Tenebrae made his presence known. “Splendid. I shall prepare some of my, how do you say, ‘greatest hits’ to entertain. Mweheheh.”

“The forest of the World Tree,” Emil mumbled to himself. “A Tree whose name I don’t even know…”

“Does the Spirit Martel’s handling of her position concern you?” asked Tenebrae, but Emil shook his head.

“The world is doing fine. I can sense that the Tree is flourishing, and there’s more than enough Mana to support what we’re doing, too. But…”

“But…?”

‘ _But the fact that I even have to think of it this way is a little lonely_ ,’ were the words Emil thought, but did not speak. Richter once told him that once you speak the words you think, they become firm and tangible, and he was inclined to agree. This life that he lived right now, in this place and body was meant to be for Marta and him to enjoy together alone, as partners and as humans, but just because the part of his self and power he had left at the gate working autonomously allowed him to live this life without much thought of what would come after, it didn’t mean that he could just forget these fundamental truths about who he was. The life he lived was human, but he wasn’t. Returning to the forest he once protected would without doubt call that fact to his conscious mind more than anything else that had happened recently.

As a slight, cool breeze from outside the window brushed up against and rustled the floral curtains Marta had chosen, Emil felt the same wind moving the veil in the back of his mind as well. That moment of absolute quiet, the boy was painfully aware he was a Summon Spirit.


	2. Smiles Given

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the end, he is just as different from her as he was from that boy.

Generally, Spirits do not eat to replenish their strength. He attempted to explain this a couple of times, but the half-elven boy tending to him would not relent.

“It’s an Infusion of Mana Leaf. You more than anyone would probably benefit from its properties,” the boy insisted.

‘ _A strange child_ ’, he thought, and finally gave in. He was surprised to realize that after drinking the odd soup he actually did feel a little better. An awkward, very small smile on his face, the Spirit quietly admitted he was wrong and thanked the boy.

“Why did you fall out of the Kharlan Tree like that?” The child asked. “I always thought Summon Spirits were not bound by gravity.”

“It’s… well, embarrassing, really…” The spirit mumbled, hiding his face. “I was trying to manipulate the Mana Flow around this forest to create a closed circuit with me at the center. Thought my own internal Mana might be enough to support its life for now until things calm down again. But it drained me so much, I had to give my form mass to prevent it from dissipating…”

“He is saying that he was trying to feed his own Mana back to the Tree,” Yuan spoke, clearly responding to the slightly confused expression Kratos was making.

“I wasn’t asking…” Kratos awkwardly looked away.

They asked the Spirit why he would try to take on such a herculean task by himself. Even with the immense power of Spirits, they agreed, a single one couldn’t possibly support the Giant Kharlan Tree that in turn supports the entire world. To that, however, the Spirit had an answer. He proudly rose from the makeshift bed the siblings had prepared for him and proclaimed that to protect the Tree was his duty, the meaning of his existence, even.

“The Tree is I, and I am the Tree. I am the Summon Spirit of the Tree, that guards the folk of the elves from the realms sealed below. My name is Ratatosk.”

Yuan, Mithos and Kratos too all took a step back, wide-eyed at the revelation. Only Martel remained calm.

“I thought so…” she whispered.

“Sister, you did?” asked Mithos.

She turned to him, “Spirits tend to dwell in the spiritual places most suited to that which they represent and administrate. It only makes sense for a Spirit met at the Giant Tree to be the guardian of the Tree itself.”

“Tch… one guardian I am…” The Spirit called Ratatosk looked away. “My power isn’t even enough to slow my Tree’s wilting. It’s so pathetic…”

“Don’t say that,” Mithos told the Spirit. “You’re doing the best that you can, aren’t you? If so, you shouldn’t have regrets. And besides, it’s not certain yet that the Tree will die. In fact, I refuse to believe it will.”

“The Tree won’t die…?” The Spirit glanced at Mithos and smiled a little. “That… That would be nice if it were true.”

The elder sister stepped forward. “My name is Martel Yggdrasil of Heimdall. This is my brother, Mithos, and these are our friends, Kratos Aurion and Yuan Ka-Fei. Oh, Spirit of the Great Tree, we’ve come because we know the reason for the decline of the Mana sustaining this world.”

Mithos nodded, “And we’re going to stop it! Right now, we’re looking for a way to end the war between the two great kingdoms that’s killing so many people and using up so much Mana.”

“A war?” Ratatosk seemed a little surprised, but only for a moment. Afterwards, the surprise was replaced by sadness and a sigh. “I see… So, the ancient tensions between People have escalated. I should have known…”

“Sylverant and Tethe’alla are using Magitechnology fueled by environmental Mana to conduct their battles,” Kratos explained. “We were wondering if perhaps here, at the source, there might be a way to cut off their weapons from the Mana flow directly.”

The Spirit shook his head. “Not without sacrificing the earth they’re standing on. Removing an area from the flow of Mana would turn it into a haven of death. Plants would die, animals and People would lose all their strength and drop where they stand. If you want to remove Mana from these two kingdoms’ battles, you’re asking for the death of anyone involved.”

A loud scoff was heard, and everyone turned their attention to Yuan.

“Maybe that would be for the best,” the man said. “I can’t see how this foolish war can ever end if not for every single human involved perishing. Even if one country falls, the humans within will just go right on to attack the half-elves on their own side either way…”

“Yuan!” Martel yelled, shooting the man a dark glare, which he tried to avoid.

“I-I am just stating the facts…”

Ratatosk seemed a little confused by the two half-elves’ exchange.

“So… You _do_ want me to sacrifice the two kingdoms to end the fighting?” he asked.

Mithos jumped up, “No! That can’t be the solution! If all these humans and half-elves die, then who would still be saved by stopping the war?”

“Those living in the outskirts, outside the warzones, people close enough to their country's edge in time to escape before all turns to waste, and the elves of Heimdall,” Kratos stated calmly.

“That’s barely anyone!” Mithos complained. “I don’t want to live in a world with almost nothing left. People… may be cruel sometimes. But they are an important part of what makes it worth living in this world.”

“Why?”

This simple question asked by the Spirit drew the entire groups attention. They stared at him, some more wide-eyed than others. The Spirit, in turn, could not understand their confusion.

“Don’t look at me like that. I am just wondering… This world existed before humans and half-elves existed. Why exactly are your kind necessary for this world to be ‘worth living in’?”

“Um, well…” Mithos was stunned for a moment. He clearly hadn’t expected to be questioned on the spot. Thankfully, his sister took the reins.

“It may be true that this world would exist regardless of whether humans and half-elves exist,” Martel explained. “But wouldn’t be the same world we know right now. There are many things, many wonderful, wonderful things on this planet that would never have come to exist without the people now living in it. Bustling towns, stories and plays, music, beautiful fireworks... we’ve seen many such wonders on our journey already.”

“Yes… The world is wide!” Mithos agreed. “And even though my sister and I haven’t found a place we’d call ‘home’ yet, we’ve already seen so many amazing villages and towns that I can’t wait to choose when the time comes!”

“The world is wide…” Ratatosk repeated with a thoughtful gaze. He lowered his youthful face a little. “I see… So, there is more to see in this world than the forests and Heimdall.”

“Haven’t you visited a human town before?” Kratos asked.

The Spirit shook his head a little, “I rarely leave this forest. This is where my Tree and the roots leading to my Gate are. Guarding them is my duty.”

“But you are a Summon Spirit,” Yuan pointed out. “Your location is far more relative than that of a person, isn’t it? As long as you exist where you go shouldn’t make much of a difference to whether you can guard this place or not.”

“That is true…” the Spirit nodded.

That moment, Mithos’ smile shone as brightly as the sunrays through the Giant Tree’s canopy.

“You should come with us!”

“…Huh?”

Before Ratatosk could process what the child said, Mithos had already taken his hand. The Spirit’s tan hand, radiating warm Mana, in the Half-Elves pale hand, warm with life. A warmth so different from his own, somehow different from that of the elves, too. Ratatosk couldn’t help but be curious about that warmth.

“Doesn’t it sound just perfect?” Mithos asked, smiling calmly. “You want to save your Tree. We are on our way to find a way to end the war that is killing your Tree. Working together would benefit us all the most. Besides, I think it would be fun to show all the interesting places we’ve already visited to someone new! Yuan’s reactions have gotten pretty boring lately…”

“M-Me!? Boring…?” Yuan sputtered, but not loudly enough to drown out the cheerful giggling coming from the person by his side. “Martel, not you too…!”

Undisturbed by his sister’s laughter and Yuan’s embarrassment, Mithos continued, “So? What do you think? Mr. Spirit?”

Ratatosk’s eyes remained on the boy, this child whose warmth was so strange and unfamiliar to him and his words, which didn’t make sense, yet sounded like they did. It occurred to the Spirit that, at his ancient age, perhaps it was embarrassing to not grasp the reasonings of a mortal child? Maybe it would be better to pretend he knew exactly what to do and say?

Feigning stoicism, the Spirit stood as tall as his youthful form allowed for and said,

“That’s not possible.”

“Huh? Why?” Mithos asked.

“A Spirit may only follow a person who has made a pact with them.”

“Fine. Then let’s make a pact.”

Ratatosk considered it for a moment. “…You don’t appear to be qualified to.”

Mithos tilted his head, “Hm?”

“Only a Summoner may make a pact with a Spirit, Mithos,” Yuan, still trying to get Martel to stop grinning at him, explained. “Unless a person is learned in the ways of Summoning, most Spirits won’t even show themselves to them.”

“Oh. Then I’ll just have to become a Summoner!” Mithos declared, leaving Yuan startled.

“…Just like that?”

Martel’s smile wandered through the group, “This might actually be a good idea. Mithos and I were taught the basics of the art of Summoning in Heimdall. He showed potential, so it shouldn’t be impossible for him to learn.”

“Right, if it’s anything like magic, I’ll probably pick it up quickly.”

“…What about your sword training?” Kratos asked with the firm voice of a worried teacher.

“Of course, _Sir Kratos_ , I’ll stick with that too!” Mithos replied. “I can practice my swordplay in the morning and learn to Summon in the evening. It’s no problem.”

And though others in the group seemed less than convinced of this claim, Mithos’ optimism remained untainted. All the while the conversation continued, Ratatosk stood by and watched the group. Humans and half-elves are strange, he thought. Strange beings that apparently liked to make the simple things difficult and the difficult things simple. Their banter didn’t make much sense to him… but he couldn’t help but continue to listen. Maybe it was his exhaustion and a lack of Mana that prevented him from removing his thoughts from these People, or maybe it was his growing curiosity.

Eventually, Mithos was holding Ratatosk’s hand again.

“That settles it then,” The boy said. “I will come right back here once I’m a full Summoner!”

“You… will?” The Spirit asked.

“Well, yeah. If I don’t, I can’t take you to travel and save the Kharlan Tree with us, right?” Mithos explained, then smiled. “It’s a promise!”

“A promise…?” Ratatosk repeated, creasing his forehead. Had the boy revealed his vow already?

The group departed afterwards, Mithos reiterating again and again how the next time they stopped by, he would become the Tree Spirit’s Summoner. He left hand in hand with his sister, Yuan and Kratos following closely behind. Ratatosk remained in the clearing where his Tree stood, watching quietly as the group disappeared into the dark of the forest.

“…People are strange,” he told himself again, this time out aloud.

“Very much so,” a voice from the shadows agreed. Ratatosk turned.

“Tenebrae…”

“Did these half-elves and their human bother you, my Lord?” the beast-like Centurion asked. “If so, I can arrange to have Monsters patrol the area so they may not return.”

Ratatosk seemed to consider his servant’s proposal for a briefly, but then shook his head. “No. Let them come back.”

“Oh! So, you actually liked them? What a surprise!”

“Liked…? I’m not sure. All I can say is…” Ratatosk gazed up the ancient, strong trunk of his Tree. “I’m interested.”

“Interested? What is it that has caught your interest?” Tenebrae asked.

The Spirit didn’t need long to consider his answer.

“The smiles they gave one another.”

* * *

Generally, he didn’t think that a room needed to have an entire wall covered in shelves to be considered ‘livable’. He attempted to explain this a couple of times, but Marta wouldn’t relent.

“Just think about how pretty it will be once we’ve filled them all up with books and little souvenirs from our travels!”

“Yeah, but until we do that, aren’t they just gonna look… empty?”

“Hmpf! Less complaining, more hammering!”

“Right, right…”

Even when he disagreed with Marta’s logic, it was always difficult to deny her wishes. She had her ways of compelling him. At least these pieces of ready-to-assemble furniture the Lezareno Company sold were simple to build. That special friendship discount Regal had given them really helped too. While they could get by well enough doing mercenary work for the Katz Guild whenever they had time, those jobs didn’t nearly pay well enough to afford furnishing an entire house while still feeding two people.

…Of course, Emil didn’t technically _need_ to be fed. But that was a fact he had brought up once, then never again. ‘ _No way… If I was the only one eating, that would just be way too lonely!_ ’ Marta had said. He didn’t disagree with her. It _was_ lonely.

Some of the boards they had gotten with what the bought turned out to be a little too long for what Marta wanted to do, so Emil had gotten to work cutting off a small piece of each to make them fit better. Meanwhile, Marta continued to hammer nails into the pieces that were already the correct size.

“By the way, Marta… About that invitation Zelos brought the other day-”

“Right, the reunion! That sounds like it’s gonna be so much fun!”

“Oh, so you’re thinking about going?”

“ _Of course_ we’re going! Why would that even be a question?”

“…No, you’re right. I guess it’s not.”

Emil sighed. What had he been thinking? Of course, Marta wouldn’t just not go, social butterfly that she was. Being honest himself, he thought it could be fun too. To him, who spent so long not knowing what it was like to have friends, people who enjoy just being close to you without expecting anything in return, the time he got to spend with all these people who’d come to call him ‘friend’ still felt like a wonderful dream to him, even now. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel apprehensive, knowing where exactly this meeting would take place. He thought of the forest, of the Tree, of Martel…

“…Emil?”

“…”

“Emil… Are you alright?”

“…”

“Are you spacing out?”

“…”

“… _Emil_!”

“- _AH_!”

She’d yelled right into his ear, ripping him out of his thoughts. The saw he’d been using absentmindedly the entire time slipped out of the track in the wood Emil had already cut and made unfortunate contact with his other hand instead.

“-ARGH!”

“HUH! O-Oh no, Emil! I’m so, so sorry!!”

Marta rushed to Emil’s side. The boy was clutching his wounded hand into a fist and biting his lip, trying not to scream bloody murder. 

_‘If I shriek from seeing blood, Tenebrae will never let me live it down…_ ,’ he thought to himself, wondering if it was an option to just keep his hand curled up like this for the rest of his life. Of course, that wouldn’t be impossible, what with Marta trying to tend to him.

“Does it hurt? Wait, let me see how bad it is…”

Reluctantly, Emil, eyes closed, allowed Marta to take a look at his hand.

“It’s times like these I really wish I still had my Healing Artes… Alright, there’s the cut, now we gotta stop the blee-“ She stopped, quietly starring at the wound. “…Huh?”

“Marta?” Emil opened his eyes a little. “What… What’s wrong?”

She replied, sounding much more confused than worried: “…You’re not bleeding.”

Emil took a look at his hand and saw that Marta was right. The cut was deep enough to make him grit his teeth and feel like the pain he was feeling didn’t even do it justice, but there was no blood. The wound was clean, as if washed out with pure water.

“What the…” He pulled his hand out of Marta’s and put it right in front of his face. “How… Why…”

“A-Are you okay!?” Marta asked, sounding a little panicky.

Emil didn’t answer right away, just starring at his wound for a short while… Until his racing thoughts brushed up against the veil in the back of his mind. Then he understood.

“… _Oh._ ”

Now he could see it: Faint traces of a substance like glittering mist, drifting out of the cut on his hand and slowly dissipating into the air, until it became just as invisible to him as it must have been to Marta.

“Emil!” Marta sounded even more scared now. “Emil, what’s wrong…?”

“I-It’s okay!” he quickly said, trying to calm her, though his speech quickly turned to mumbling. “I’m bleeding Mana...”

“What?” Marta was on high alarm. “That doesn’t sound ‘okay’ at all to me! W-Wait, I’m gonna… bandages, maybe? I mean… Is that gonna work? … We have to do something!”

“I concur with Lady Marta,” Tenebrae, who’d been watching them from a corner of the room for a long time, spoke up. “Lord Emil, I think it’s about time to close up this wound up. Unless you were planning to spend the rest of the day in pain and too fatigued to work?”

“Ah… Right…”

It was awkward, so strange. The knowledge of how to do it was there, but using it felt as if he was stepping into a forbidden room and touching something scarily precious. However, he didn’t like hurting, and he didn’t like Marta suffering because of his pain. So carefully, Emil concentrated, focused the flow of Mana in his body, and then allowed his form to mend the damage that had been done to it. The wound closed up without a hint that it had ever been there.

When Marta saw this, she sighed, “Thank goodness…”

Emil quietly looked at the spot where the cut had been.

“All better now? Or does it still hurt?” Marta asked.

Emil looked up. “Um… No. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Hah… That’s good. I’m so glad.”

Marta warped her arms around Emil and kissed his nose.

“I’m sorry for scaring you like that,” She really did sound sorry. “I just got worried… You space out a lot lately, you know, so-”

Emil interrupted her speech: “Don’t you think it’s weird?”

“Huh?” Marta backed away a little. “What?”

“That I don’t bleed. Don’t you think it’s… creepy?”

“Hm? Creepy? What do you mean? I’m just glad you’re not hurt anymore.”

“…I see.”

“Emil. Are you _really_ okay?”

Marta gently laid a hand on the boy’s face. His eyes avoided hers. Their eyes were never able to keep secrets from one another, but Emil didn’t want to drag Marta into his worries right now, especially because he knew they were of a nature that even she would never be able to understand, at least not really.

“…I’m just tired,” he claimed. “Heh… Guess I really did let a lot of Mana seep out there. Good thing Tenebrae called me out when he did.”

“Glad to help! Though, I would hope that my help will not be required next time. As amusing as it can be to see my Lord act so clueless from time to time, I do believe amusement meets its limit where you put yourself in harm’s way for its sake.”

Emil could only muster an awkward smile at this, ‘ _Does he think I’m doing this stuff on purpose…?_ ’

“Aww, Emil!” Marta pressed another kiss on his face, this time on his cheek. “I know we settled on living a somewhat normal life together, but you really don’t need to take it _that_ far just for me.”

Apparently, Marta’s impression was the same as Tenebrae’s.

“I really don’t mind that you can heal yourself so quickly, and I don’t at all think that it’s ‘creepy’ or ‘weird’ if your wounds don’t bleed! Actually… I’m really, really glad I didn’t put a scar on your hand back there just because I was being impatient with you.”

Emil looked up. “Marta…”

There it was. Her radiant smile, a smile that could melt his heart away in seconds whenever it met his eyes. Again, she nuzzled up to him and he could feel the familiar, kind warmth of her life.

“If you ask me, no blood is better than having to watch you bleed and hurting. As long as you’re okay, I’ll always be okay too, regardless of what that means.”

It would be so, so nice if only that was true, Emil found himself thinking.

“We should probably call it a night for today, huh? I mean, we got pretty far with that shelf already.”

“Huh? …Ah, right,” he nodded and smiled back. “Yeah, a guess a break would be nice. We did work pretty hard today.”

“Yeah! And tomorrow, we’ll finish it for sure! Then you’ll see I was right about it being pretty and you~ weren’t~!”

“Heh heh… If you say so…”

“I’ll go ahead wash up.”

When Marta headed for the bathroom, she once more gave him her smile before leaving through the door. That wonderful, beautiful smile.

“Hey, Emil? Don’t worry so much,” she told him. “I know there’s a lot we’re both still getting used to… But no matter what you think is gonna get in our way, as long as it’s you and me, we can work it all out together. I promise.”

She promised…

“Alright… I’ll be waiting for you in the bedroom~♡! Don’t fall asleep without me!”

When Marta left, the room fell silent, apart from the sound of the water she was using on the other side of the wall. The sound reminded Emil of a river… A little stream in a forest, maybe? That’s how it felt at least. Silent and observed by Tenebrae’s watchful eyes, he sat next to the half-built shelf and wondered if he could ever truly understand that smile she gave him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please suspend your disbelief and assume that Emil never took a wound that was more than skin-deep throughout all of DotnW, or that while he was in "survival" mode, Ratatosk had a way to simulate bleeding. Thank you.


	3. Promises and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the truth about his past was stained by lies.

Weeks, maybe even months, passed, and eventually there was a time, what one might call the “Eye of the Storm”, when it seemed like all would be alright. Perhaps, he thought, all those fears of losing everything, his Tree, this planet and his life, were just a bad dream. The Spirit breathed a sigh of relief, watching as his tree’s leaves slowly recovered some of their lush, green color. Things weren’t exactly back to ‘normal’ per se, Mana was still being drained at a rate much higher than natural, but it was better. Good enough for him to decide to take a short repose. Surrounded by those most loyal to him, his Centurions, the familiars embodying his very power, he sat underneath the canopy of his tree and rested.

It was this unfortunate day that a promise never meant to be kept was made.

When the shy, always cautious Solum, the smallest and most guarded of the Centurions, alerted her Lord to the presence of People in his forest, Ratatosk was ready to dive into the depths of the Tree’s roots and disappear along with his servants. But then he sensed and saw who exactly was approaching.

“It’s you…”

The half-elven boy, this time followed by only his human swordsman companion, once again approached the ancient Tree. He was observed closely not only by Ratatosk, but also the eyes of all his Centurions. Some of them appeared curious, even delighted to see the unexpected visitors joining their gathering. Others were apprehensive, disappearing into the surrounding streams of Mana and choosing to watch the scene invisibly. Ratatosk, however, stepped forward, invited by the warm smile of the boy.

“Summon Spirit of the Great Tree. It’s an honor to meet you again,” Mithos greeted politely.

Ratatosk thought about how to respond for a short moment, “Did you come to tell me that you have ended the war?”

Mithos’ smile faltered a little when he heard that, “Well, I wish I could put it quite like that but… we have made progress!”

“You mean the noticeable drop in strain on the Tree these past couple days,” Ratatosk assumed, and immediately Mithos perked up again.

“Ah! So, it really _did_ work.” The boy turned to look at Kratos. “Looks like Yuan was right after all!”

Kratos agreed, “It was the largest factory on the continent… It’s no surprise that this would set back Sylverant’s militarization program by several weeks.”

“Heh. To think he didn’t even want to do it!”

“Hm… I think it is mostly that he would have preferred a more, well, ‘covert’ way of handling the situation.”

“I think what he and my sister did to that factory was amazing! Like a bunch of fireworks!”

“Fireworks… huh?”

The Spirit felt a little bothered by these two having their idle chat right in front of him, so with a noise quite similar to a person clearing their throat, Ratatosk called his visitors’ attention back to himself.

“Ahem! I gather that you are the ones who allowed some of the strain on the Tree to be lifted,” Ratatosk says. “For that you have my thanks. You’ve done a service to this world and everything that lives in it.”

“There is no need to thank us, really,” Mithos shook his head. “We live in this world. I think it’s only natural we want to protect it.”

“That may be so. But there are many People out there, and you are the only ones I’ve heard of that are concerning themselves with the fate of Mana the way you do.”

“And yet, we’re People.”

Ratatosk couldn’t help but feel taken aback. Those words and that smirk… It was almost as if the boy had read his mind. As if he had somehow known just how surprised the Spirit had been that people other than the Elves would come and lend their hand in protecting the planet’s balance of Mana.

“Your other friends. The ones you came here with last time. Where did they go?”

“Tethe’alla,” Mithos replied. “We have a plan to help the Tree recover and end this war. But, in order to do it…”

“…In order to do it?”

There was a moment of tension between half-elf and Spirit, before Mithos, spurred on by an encouraging nod from his mentor, took a step forward. His body was trembling a little, but he still tried to look confident as he raised his voice.

“Oh, Spirit of the Giant Kharlan Tree! I am ready now! I, Mithos Yggdrasil, seek a pact with thee, Ratatosk, Lord of Mana and Monsters!”

* * *

The days passed by, and sometimes, when his mind was in the moment, far away from the past, it felt like everything was normal, like everything was right in the world. Emil watched as slowly their little house filled up with more and more memories, little trinkets and souvenirs brought from here and there, bringing color into their shared life. 

“See? Didn’t I tell you it was gonna look pretty?”

“…Eheheh. Okay, you win. You were spot-on.”

She planted a kiss on his cheek before he could object. Not that he would have wanted to. These days, Marta’s constant affection usually felt comforting to him, like a warm blanket.

They didn’t end up furnishing the house on their own. Due to a little unnecessary information they slipped while chatting with the neighbors, Alba, the man Emil once thought was his uncle, soon learned of the incident with the saw. The next morning, he stood in front of their door, fully equipped with wood and tools of all kind.

“Why am I not surprised you’re still as accident-prone as ever?” was his greeting to Emil.

It took the boy some willpower to not slip into an unnecessary ‘sorry’, more out of habit than because of any actual regrets. Alba was brash, but his help was appreciated, and working together in a team of three, the empty living room soon received an additional table, cupboard and three new chairs. Eventually, Flora came by as well, bringing old carpets, flowers, and a potted peppermint plant.

“…Peppermint…” Emil couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose a little at the smell.

Marta took it upon herself to explain to explain this reaction to Flora and her astonished face.

“Emil doesn’t really like strong scents like that.”

“-Oh! I had no idea! But… Emil. You never said anything about the plants we had back in our house.”

“Because I didn’t want to get into trouble,” he admitted gingerly.

“I… see…”

Even though in the background Alba was hammering louder than ever- possibly to provide a distraction from the scene – the air was tense between Flora and Emil for a moment afterwards.

“Ah- Ahahaha!” Marta forced some laughter out of her throat, taking the pot of peppermint from Flora’s hands. “Well, it’s okay, really, you couldn’t have known! Anyway, thank you _sooo_ much for the present! …I know, I’ll just find a nice spot for it in the garden!”

Before Marta could head for the back door with the planet, Emil opened his mouth.

“No.”

“Huh?” Marta halted and turned. Flora turned as well. Both of them looked at Emil as if he’d just grown a second head.

“I said ‘no’,” he repeated calmly, looking at Flora. “Marta is right, it’s a nice gift, but I don’t want peppermint in the house, and I don’t want it in the garden either. Please take it back.”

“Emil…”

For a moment, he got worried that Marta was going to start arguing with him over it, but instead, his girlfriend’s expression brightened, beaming with unexpected pride. Flora, on the other hand, kept starring at Emil.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he eventually told her. “I do appreciate the gift, I mean it. It’s just, I want this house to be a place where both, Marta and I, can feel comfortable.”

“…You’ve changed, Emil.”

It was a line he heard often, especially here in Luin. Hearing it from ‘Aunt’ Flora, however, he wasn’t sure yet what to expect. Though his relationship with her and her husband had been a lot better ever since he’d returned to this town after the end of his journey, and they’d even taken him back in before he’d found a place for Marta and himself, he wasn’t yet entirely sure how they had come to feel about him – or how _he_ felt about _them_.

“Before you left, you never spoke your mind like that,” Flora said.

Emil nodded. “Mhm. I mean, a lot has happened.”

“I'm glad.” Her words were as unexpected to him as the gentle look in her eyes. “When you first came to town, I never knew what you were thinking. Your gaze was so empty, and I couldn’t tell whether you were happy or sad, or even feeling anything at all. It… It scared me. There was a stranger in my house, and I had no way of finding out what that person thought of us, or of anything. But now, after all this time, it feels like I can finally get to know you.”

It was a short exchange, not many words were shared afterwards. Of course, what Flora said didn’t take away the months of isolation and cold loneliness Emil had endured while living under her roof, neither did it undo all the times Alba had spanked him for things he didn’t do, or Flora yelled at him for dropping an item when he got scared, but it was a start to know that she was ready and happy to meet the real ‘him’. A self that he himself hadn’t known about until the very end of his journey with Marta.

After Alba and Flora left and they were done with furnishing the house for the night, Marta came to Emil, a bright grin on her lips.

“C’mon,” she poked him. “Say it already.”

“Hm?”

“Y’know. The line. You know you want to.”

“The line? -Ah.” Of course. He knew what she meant. “ _Courage is the magic that turns dreams into reality_ -“

“Hah! There it is!” Marta ruffled Emil’s hair. “It was great how you handled that situation. A lot of people would be scared to talk to family like that, even if they didn’t have a bad history with them!”

“But that’s just it. There wasn’t actually any ‘courage’ in it,” Emil admitted, taking Marta’s hand off his head. “I wasn’t scared this time, at least I don’t feel like I was. I just said what came to me naturally. I didn’t want that plant close to me, so that’s what I said. It was actually pretty easy.”

Listening as Emil told her this, Marta blinked a few times, then began to lean in on him, taking a close, long look at Emil’s face.

“…what?” he asked her, not evading her searching gaze, though he wasn’t entirely comfortable with it.

“Your eyes,” she said. “Back then, I could always see it in your eyes…”

“My eyes?”

“But now, I can’t really tell. I can’t tell if I’m talking to ‘Normal Emil’ or ‘Ratatosk Emil’.”

“…Oh. _That_.”

Emil sighed. He should have known that this would be what it comes down to. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been thinking of it himself. 

“Well, there isn’t really a ‘Normal Emil’ or a ‘Ratatosk Emil’ anymore to begin with,” he explained.

“I know…” Marta sighed. “It’s pretty silly that I still keep thinking of you that way. Heh, you must be thinking that I’m probably really slow on the uptake, right?”

Emil shook his head. “No, not really. I mean, you’re not the only one.”

“…Hm?”

“I sometimes still find myself wondering which ‘me’ I am, too.”

Emil slumped down into the mattress of their bed, starring at the ceiling,

“I know these days I often act gentle and reserved, maybe even a bit… childish? I probably come across as what everyone thought was ‘Normal Emil’ on the outside. But I don’t feel that way on the inside. Back when we first met, I felt fragile, helpless, and always wanted to run and hide when there was any danger of anything hurting me. That’s all gone now. I know exactly what I’m capable of now and find it hard to even imagine getting so scared of a human that I couldn’t speak up to them. I can’t even relate to that feeling anymore.” He paused, the laughed. “Well, except for maybe when you’re mad at me.”

Marta laughed back, “Heheh, I get it. I mean, it’s obvious. You’re the combined Emil from back at the Ginnungagap.”

“Hm, I wonder about that… I mean, yeah, that’s who I ought to be, but I don’t quite feel the way I did at the Ginnungagap either,” Emil admitted. “Maybe Verius did something to me so I would fit in better with humans?”

“Maybe it’s just because you’re back here in Luin. I mean, don’t people sometimes say stuff like that they have a ‘business face’ and a ‘private face’? Like, I’m sure Regal probably acts different around other businesspeople than he does towards his friends.”

“Hm, you think so? I don’t know… I really can’t see Regal being any more ‘regal’ than he is with us.”

“Ahaha! You made a pun!”

“Well, yeah! That was on purpose.”

“Aww, you’re adorable, you know that? ♡“

Marta gently pressed a kiss on Emil’s forehead before throwing her arm around him and pushing him down into the soft bedsheets along with herself.

“Whoa! Marta!”

“Hm, I keep wondering. Could the great and loveable King of all Monsters possibly be ticklish?”

“…Wait, what?”

“Time to experiment!”

It seemed Marta had firmly decided that tonight was not the time for ‘business faces’. The two of them spent hours in the privacy of their bedroom together, fooling around, talking and enjoying each other’s company. Neither lost another word on the matter of Emil’s identity, perhaps because Marta didn’t want for Emil to fall asleep with these heavy thoughts on his mind. However, what Marta failed to realize was that her efforts were much akin to using a band-aid to fix a boat that had sprung a leak, and neither was she aware of the true extent and nature of the thoughts that kept him so occupied lately.

When the night fell and the both of them drifted away in each other’s arms, Emil was once again faced with the same trial he’d had to go through almost every night ever since returning from the Ginnungagap:

Sorting through the memories he saw in his dreams.

 _A vague image of a boy held by two adults. Their faces are unclear, blurry, hidden by fog **–**_ **Right.** **That didn’t happen.**

 _A forest of unnatural beauty filled with vivid colors and light. A familiar Spirit clad in an aura of Light Mana sings her beautiful song, drawing close the surrounding monsters to listen. He, too listens._ **-This one is real.**

 _He is sitting in a classroom full of children his age, and in front there is a teacher. What are they saying? He can’t quite make it out, but it probably doesn’t matter. Another scene of faceless figures_ **– Didn’t happen. Another fake.**

 _A group of elves in ritual garb appear before him, bringing offerings of gemstones, seeking to consult him about the Mana flow and the year’s harvest. He takes the time to listen and speak. The gems, he gives to the Centurions to play with. They get more worth out of trivial things like that than he does. **–**_ **I… I guess that happened…? It feels distant.**

 _The dried up gras underneath his body hurts his skin. The Mana in the air is so thin, he feels like he is about to choke. That’s how it should be. Lying on the ground underneath the lifeless husk of his tree, he waits to die, and for his anger to die with him._ **– I’m alive now. But even so, it must be real.**

 _He is eating dinner with those faceless parents he loves so much, and thinks that from outside he can hear a nameless neighbor celebrate the Regeneration of the World_ **.- Fake. That wasn’t how I heard of it.**

 _It’s a scene he knows well. Aster Laker and Richter Abend, pleading to him in the red light of the Ginnungagap_ **.– I’ve had enough of this one.**

 _He opens his eyes, and he doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know who he is or how or why. His mind is empty. A girl sits on the ground. She’s talking, but he can’t make sense of her voice._ **– Did that… happen? Ah. Right. That’s Marta, isn’t it…?**

 _Lana Castagnier, speaking gibberish words of affection to him_. **– …Fake.**

 _Lana Castagnier, begging him to flee, as her son._ **\- ………..**

 _He goes to Luin, because his mother told him to go and live with his Aunt Flora. His name is Emil, and he is from Palmacosta, like all the people in this carriage, and he is going to Luin, a place he’s never heard about, because his mother told him too, and his mother knows best_. **\- The events are real. The feelings aren’t.**

 _In Luin, everyone seems nice at first. But then he explains what happened, that Palmacosta was attacked by someone called Lloyd Irving, and everyone gets angry. They yell at him, call him names, then avoid him. That’s Lloyd’s fault._ **\- No. It’s not.**

 _He’s so angry at it. Lloyd Irving, who everyone here calls a hero, is a murderer. He suffers because of Lloyd_ **\- Wait, stop. That’s wrong. That happened, but it didn’t happen.**

 _He has to suffers like this, because_ _of Lloyd_ **\- Stop! That part wasn’t true.**

 _He has to suffers like this, because Ll̳͇͎̼̪͚̠ǫ͇͉͔̻͍͎̣y̸̩̖d̦͠_ **\- I said stop!**

 _He has to suffers like this, because L̸̖͎i̶̧̙̝̹͙̕o̵͚͈̙t̹̩͈d̡̥͖͉̻̺͚͔s͏̛̮̜̬̺͓͇ broke his_ **\- STOP.**

_He has to suffers like this, because Mithos broke his promise to everyone._

* * *

“Oh, Spirit of the Giant Kharlan Tree! I am ready now! I, Mithos Yggdrasil, seek a pact with thee, Ratatosk, Lord of Mana and Monsters!”

The boy stood firm, presenting the ceremonial ring on his finger to the Spirit with pride. It was a surprise, but the Spirit could tell it was true: The little boy who once bragged so loudly about taking him along on his journey through the world truly now held the qualifications of a Summoner. Ratatosk couldn’t help but feel impressed. By the ancient law, all that remained now was to test the boy’s strength. Then, should he prove himself worthy, they would be permitted to enter into a pact.

“Ha… I see.”

Ratatosk slowly unsheathed his claws, a smirk forming on his lips. He felt excited. Even though he had never had much interest in forging Summoning pacts, right now he felt as motivated as rarely before. He justified it to himself as the joy of having found a possible avenue to save his Tree. At a later point he would admit to himself that it was more than that. That he had been drawn in, captured, and enchanted by the half-elven boy’s powerful smile. Mithos’ smile, whatever form it took, was always infectious. 

“Then let us test your strength! Mithos! Let’s see if you’re worthy of my power!”

Their battle lasted for an hour. In spite of Kratos half-drawing his weapon at the start of the battle, Mithos insisted to fight alone. That it wouldn’t be right for him to have backup when Ratatosk, weakened by the state of the Giant Tree, was fighting alone. Ratatosk felt a little pity, even worry, for the boy, clearly a first-time Summoner, who seemed to be underestimating the raw strength of a Spirit such as him gravely. For a brief while considered whether he should demand the older swordsman join the battle, just to prevent the boy from sustaining injuries. The Spirit’s worries proved unfounded: Mithos turned out to be a quite versatile opponent, nimble on his feet, quick to cast the most necessary of spells without losing his concentration, and the form of his swordplay, too, was nearly perfect. Ratatosk understood the satisfied look he caught a glimpse of on the observing Kratos’ face. The master had taught his student very well. It was a reason to be proud. But was it enough to beat a Summon Spirit? That question wasn’t so easily answered. As flawless and agile as Mithos’ technique was, it took more than acrobatic precision to counter the raw, unrestrained force of the Spirit governing Mana itself. Though weakened by the state of the world itself, Ratatosk still held the power of all the Mana flowing through and nourishing this world, and while he had no intentions of hurting a child, he wasn’t planning to hold back significantly either. It was a game of cat and mouse, Rataosk striking with progressively more powerful, wide and swiping Artes, while Mithos focused on dodging and finding openings to exploit for his own attacks. This being the slow and arduous fight it was, even after an hour it was only by pure happenstance that the duel met an end:

Somewhere far away, it was as if a dagger was driven into the earth itself, leaving behind a large, gaping wound, only for the Mana that leaked from it to immediately and greedily be sucked up by a wide metal mouth. None of those present knew it at the time, but this was the moment that a new, powerful Mana Reactor had been activated for the first time somewhere in Tethe’alla.

Ratatosk felt it. It was painful. He staggered. 

“ _Ugh-!_ ”

The opening his stumble left was huge and Mithos didn’t miss a beat. A step, a swing, an Arte executed right in his opponent’s blind-spot. A second later, Ratatosk was on the floor, wide-eyed and starring up at the blonde child pointing a blade to his chest.

“I believe that’s a win for me,” Mithos proclaimed, grinning as he kept his opponent pinned to the ground.

He wasn’t technically correct. In fact, the cockiness the boy showed this moment could very well have become his downfall. Despite having fallen, Ratatosk could still fight, and a short second was all he needed to see a hundred different ways to exploit the boy’s apparent lack of foresight. To slip out of his grasp and ram into him, to turn his own blade back against him, to use a burst of magical flame to drive him away and pin him up against a tree…

Ratatosk could have chosen to do any of these. Later he would _wish_ he had. But in that moment, the pain of his Tree and himself being robbed of their Mana so acutely on his mind, and utterly entranced by that boy’s confident, bright face, in fact seeing the hope, no the _promise_ in it-

Ratatosk sheathed his claws. He laughed.

“Haha… Ahahahaha!”

It was a laughter that draw the curious Centurions to come forward and take a closer look at what was happening. Rather than sounding like the strict but reasonable and kind Master they knew, this laughter was lighthearted and joyous. It sounded like the laugh of someone who knew they still had their entire life ahead of them and were eager to live it.

“Ohhh! It’s rare to see Lord Ratatosk enjoying himself like that.” The Centurion Aqua noted, tapping her chin with her fingers.

“The Lord seems so, so happy!” The cheery Lumen, who was floating next to her comrade, agreed. She spread her wings wide. “Ahhh, I’m picking up so many good vibes~.”

“‘Good vibes’, hm? I wonder about that.”

That far more pessimistic voice joining the conversation belonged to Tenebrae. The negativity in his words wasn’t lost on his colleagues.

“What is your problem, you Tenebore!? You got a problem with our Lord actually having something to be happy about for the first time in goodness knows how long?” Aqua scoffed at him.

Lumen whispered in her ear, “Aqua. Tenebrae is the Centurion of Darkness. He probably just hates happiness.”

“Ah! Right, right!”

“W-What!” Tenebrae sounded exasperated and raised his voice. “Is that how you speak of your kindred, when they’re _right there_?”

“Ahhh, Tenebrae is angry!” Lumen squeaked. “Run away!”

“ _Ahhh_!” Aqua, sounding quiet fake, joined in. “How dare you scare Lumen agaiiiin!”

And with that the Centurions of Water and Light escaped the scene, leaving their Darkness-elemental friend to pout and monologue over his bruised ego. 

The Centurions’ conversation went largely ignored by the actual participants of the Ceremony, save for Ratatosk throwing a brief look at them across his shoulder as Mithos helped him stand back up. He didn’t know what his servants were talking about and decided to not pay it much mind. Right now, his attention fully belonged to the Summoner in front of him; A gracious winner who had offered him a hand as soon as Ratatosk has conceded.

“You did well,” the Spirit congratulated the boy. “Was this your first time challenging one of us?”

“You mean fighting a Summon Spirit? Ah, not quite,” Mithos admitted. “I actually tried to make a pact with Maxwell first, but that didn’t go quite so well…”

Ratatosk could imagine. Without any distractions he probably wouldn’t have had any trouble winning against the boy either. But he decided to keep that for himself.

“But I’m sure, eventually I’ll be strong enough to defeat him, too!”

“In other words, I will be your first successful pact.”

“Ah… Yes!”

“Well then. Mithos Yggdrasill! State your Vow!”

Just as eager and excited as Mithos looked to finally take this step, as excited did Ratatosk feel to hear the boy’s pledge.

His hand on his chest, Mithos’ voice rang out for everyone to hear, “I swear to protect the Giant Kharlan Tree, the natural balance of Mana, and this world, so they won’t fall victim to Sylverant and Tethe’alla’s pointless war! I will borrow your power to build a world where the troubles everyone is going through right now will be nothing but a bad memory!”

Ratatosk nodded and smiled, “I accept.”

With those words, he offered his hand to the boy.

_He didn’t yet know that less than a year later, the hand he took that day would be the same hand that would cast him into a nightmare that would last for over 4000 years. A bad dream that he wouldn’t be able to wake from, no matter how hard he tried, and that would tear apart his very heart. If at that moment he’d known the truth, he would have-_

* * *

_-screamed._

He screamed. He found himself in a bed drenched in sweat, not knowing _where_ , _when_ , _how_ , _why_ or _who_ he was, just being terrified, flailing around trying to ward off what- or whoever was trying to hurt him-

“Emil! Emil, what’s wrong!? I’m here! Calm down, I’m here!”

Two arms warped around him, holding him tight, and before he could struggle against the gesture, the pieces in his mind reassembled to where they belonged. He recognized the room, its scents, the body he was in, and the warmth of the person holding on to him for dear life.

“M…Marta…”

He took a deep breath. Right, he was home. _It_ was over. _It_ had been over for a long, long time.

“Did you have a nightmare…?” Marta asked, carefully brushing a few stray hairs out of Emil’s face.

Emil gave a small nod, wiping his fingers across the corners of his eyes to quickly dry the tears that had gathered there.

“…What was it about?” she asked.

“I…” he hesitated. “I can’t remember.”

He lied.

Marta took care of him for a while afterwards, lighting the candles in the room, staying awake with him and bringing him a glass of warm milk, all while Emil wondered whether it was silly of him to need any of these things when technically Spirits didn’t need to sleep the way humans did.

“You’ve been so tense lately,” Marta mumbled, cuddling up to him. “I hope it isn’t because I rushed you into moving in together right after we thought we were never going to see each other again.”

Emil shook his head, “It’s got nothing to do with that. Don’t worry. I’m just still working through some stuff.”

“It must be hard… Remembering so many lifetimes worth of memories, all at once.”

Marta’s words stunned Emil, reminding him of just how well she’d always been able to read him. It wasn’t just that; As cold and lightheaded as his nightmare had made him feel, the dark void of emotions in the back of his mind threatening to swallow him whole, here was Marta, anchoring him tightly to reality with the kind warmth of her hand. She’d once told to let that warmth remind him that she is here and he is real, right in this moment, by her side, and those words had helped him and held true in the months that had passed since. Marta, the way she listened to and understood him, and the promises she’d made to him were the line connecting him to this world whenever he was about to slip away. Deep inside, he knew that as long as she was there, he wouldn’t have to fear his past. But… therein laid the issue, didn’t it?

“No matter what’s troubling you, I promise I’ll always be there to help you through it. We’re partners, right?”

_Oh Marta. Please, don’t make promises you can’t keep._

She lulled him back to sleep with more pleasant talk afterwards, discussing the plants they were planning to seed in the garden, upcoming travel plans and the dishes they would like to try cooking in the following weeks. It was nice, took his mind off his most pressing troubles. Once again, he could bring himself to forget that he was anything more than ‘just Emil’ and was able to spend the remainder of the night resting in eventless, dull sleep.

He awoke the next morning to the scent of pancakes and roasted nuts.

“…?”

When he didn’t find Marta in bed next to him, Emil slipped into the robe laid out on the nightstand next to the bed and carefully stepped out of the bedroom, into the kitchen. He found Marta and Flora standing by the stove and smiling at him. The room was full of the sweet smells of breakfast.

“Good Morning, Emil!”

“Marta told me you like hazelnuts, so I made some fresh spread to go with the pancakes. I hope you enjoy.”

It were moments like these when he remembered how much he still had left to look forward to in this life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this fic, I actually came up with designs/personalities for all the Centurions. Maybe I'll share them one day. Heads up, I might refer to some of the Centurions as "she", even if in the English dub, the game called them "he". That's because in the Japanese original, no Centurion's gender, other than those of Tenebrae, Aqua and, incidentally, Ventus, is ever mentioned. Japanese doesn't have pronouns the way English does, so there's no need to ever bring it up.
> 
> Chapters are still pretty short right now, but only get longer from this point on. I really need to edit some of the latter chapters. A lot of stuff isn't as concise and to the point as it could be.


	4. Ties of Fleeting Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wants to redo, but he can't do this again.

A question bound to be on any Summon Spirits' mind immediately after making a fresh pact had always been: What will the first time I'm summoned be like? What for will I be called? Ratatosk hadn't had many Summoners over the course of his long life. His domain was so wide-reaching that even among those that knew of him, many feared his power too much to approach him. Those that did make a pact with him tended to call on him only in emergencies, to drastically alter the flow of Mana or defeat foes without match among mortals.

Being called by Mithos for the first time was nothing like that. When Mithos first summoned him, it was lunchtime.

"There you are! Alright!"

The confused Summon Spirit could only stare at the serene scene before him, Kratos and a creature he identified as a fairly evolved Protozoan sitting by a small fireplace, while Martel, humming to herself cheerfully, was sorting through the group's food provisions trying to decide what dish to make. Mithos stood right in front of Ratatosk, beaming at him.

"Good. First summoning: Successful. This is working out just fine!"

The Spirit opened his mouth. "Why am I here?"

For the life of him, he couldn't tell.

"I have got something to show to you!" Mithos insisted, before grabbing Ratatosk's wrist and dragging on it. "Come on, it's just a little over there!"

Not knowing what else to do, the Spirit allowed the boy to drag him up a slope. He was too confused to even object to such treatment right now.

The terrain they were on was rocky and steep, with only little vegetation or wildlife, aside from the monsters who bowed their heads sensing the presence of their lord. Maybe in later times this place would have meaning to people, but for the time being it was just a mountain, just a slope, and just an ordinary cliff that Mithos attempted to show to Ratatosk. The Summon Spirit didn't understand the point of this excursion, until Mithos led him to the edge of the cliff, and the both of them gazed down onto the scenery stretching out beneath. Had Ratatosk needed to breathe, his breath would have been taken away here.

"That's… my forest," he muttered, looking down upon the ocean of green woods, plains and hills expanding into the distance. Right in its center he could see the gigantic canopy of his Tree tower above all the remaining plants, like a throne upon a heap of treasure. He couldn't help but find the sight incredibly beautiful.

"Not just that! You can see half the world from here!" Mithos said, and then pointed in all different directions. "Look, over there, that's the current biggest city in Tethe'alla. You see these tall buildings? They're using Magitech to make them stand upright like this, I hear. Sylverant is more this way, over to the east. I haven't been there a lot yet, but apparently, they've got even more impressive cities there. And over there, just across the sea, that's Ymir forest and-"

Mithos stopped, his smile dropping.

"…H…Heimdall," he finished, much quieter than before. That change in his demeanor didn't go past Ratatosk. He turned to his Summoner.

"…Are you alright?" the Spirit asked carefully.

"It's okay," Mithos claimed. "I was just… thinking."

"I remember, your sister said you came from Heimdall… Are you homesick?"

"No, that's not it… Well, not mostly," Mithos shook his head. "I mean. Even if we wanted to go back, we couldn't…"

"What do you mean?"

Mithos didn't respond, but instead cast another forlorn look towards the forest in the distance. If he hadn't known any better, the Spirit would have thought the boy was holding back tears.

"You know… Let's go back and see what the others are doing! Maybe Yuan is back already from scouting out the surroundings!" And again, before Ratatosk could point out that Mithos could just dismiss him if they were done with what he'd called him for, the boy took the Spirit's hand again and pulled him back down the path they came. "Come to think, it's my sister's turn cooking today… You should really try it! Her stews are divine, worthy of a great Spirit like you!"

"I… don't really eat…" Ratatosk said.

"Well, there's a first time for everything!"

"But… I don't even do well with the scent of most herb and spices. I usually rip out the ones growing around my Tree."

"Oh? Well, alright. We can just tell her to not make it too spicy today!"

"Why do you insist on making me eat?"

Mithos stopped walking and pulling. For a moment it was quiet between two of them, awkwardly standing in the middle of path's sparse vegetation.

"Because…" Mithos seemed to have trouble putting it into words. But then his smile returned. "Because eating together is nice. It's what a team does."

"…A team?"

"Yes! We're all in this together, right? We're journeying together, to save this world and the Tree. That makes us a team."

Ratatosk curiously looked at Mithos, unable to deny that his words made sense.

"So, let's eat together! I'm sure you're going to like it."

"I don't know… I don't want to be a burden. Wouldn't this just be wasting you people's provisions?"

" _Absolutely not_!"

And just like that, Mithos got the last word in the conversation, as he would so often. In the past summoning had always meant a call to battle or another sort of demand for his power to Ratatosk, but with Mithos it was rarely like that. More and more often, Ratatosk would find himself sitting in a circle or around a table with the members of Mithos' group, as well as with a growing number of other Summon Spirits, sometimes joined by some of his Centurions. They would discuss the current situation, offer advice and criticism of the Summoner's and his party's ideas, all the while the human and half-elves would take in their daily bread and listen attentively. However, the only Spirit to ever eat of the group's food would be Ratatosk, because Mithos would always, without fail, insist on sharing with him.

"Hazelnut Stew was your favorite, right? I don't especially care for it. Here, you can have my portion."

It was a lie, but one the Spirit appreciated, because it was a lie born of his Summoner's care and kindness… long before he came to hate this kindness.

* * *

If he hadn't made new memories with Marta and the others, he wasn't sure if he would be able to stand cooking or eating anything these days. Thanks to them, it was fun. Even when it wasn't his turn to make food, he always found himself curious to see what his friends would choose to put on the table… Though, being served Curry with Pineapple in it was perhaps a bit too much for Emil's sensitive palette. He almost ended up skipping dinner that day.

That evening he found himself faced with these eternal questions on any Summon Spirits' mind upon making a fresh pact: What will the Summoner swear upon our pact? What sort of responsibilities should I be prepared for? Maybe these should not have been thoughts for him to bother himself with in this life. A human life is not supposed to be spent granting the desires of mortals from up on high. However, he decided to do this anyway.

"Are you sure about this Emil?" Sheena asked, after checking her cards and rings one last time. "I mean, I know you _technically_ promised me, but that was before we knew you'd be able to leave the Ginnungagap physically after the whole deal with the gate. The way things are now, we can all meet you whenever we want just fine, right? It's not like I actually _need_ your power for anything either."

Emil nodded, "Please, let's go ahead with it. Even if you never end up summoning me, I… I just feel like I need this."

He needed it, like one needed water to flush a bad aftertaste out of their mouth.

They were just outside of Luin's walls, the dim lights of the town illuminating the plain they had chosen as their sparring grounds. While it was customary to test a prospective Summoner's strength in the Spirit's own domain, the Kharlan Tree was long gone and the Ginnungagap was out of the question for various reasons. This really was the next best place. Marta stood by Sheena's side. Though she looked confident, Emil could tell that his motivations for insisting on this ceremony confused her a little. He couldn't fault her; they confused him a little as well. For months Emil had tried to simply live as a human and leave his true nature as an "issue" to be dealt with much, much later, but if engaging with that part of him on this very base level stood a chance of finally putting to rest the recent motions stirring behind the veil in the back, he thought he ought to at least give it a try.

"So, let's go over this one more time… Sheena is going to state she wants a pact, Sheena and I are then going to fight Emil to prove Sheena is 'worthy', and then Sheena is going to state her Vow, which is going to be about me and Emil always being together, which will probably, if you're right, allow us to make some kind of magic connection with one another." Marta tilted her head a little. "It's not that I'm not liking this, not at all. But I agree with Sheena: Is it really necessary? Emil, you, and I are always gonna be together anyway. Official pact or not, I won't let you lose sight of me, you hear me?"

_'Always'… why did she have to put it like that?_

Emil laughed a little, "I know that. It's just… Better safe than sorry, right? I, for one, would feel a lot better knowing I can always hear your voice no matter how far you're away."

"Oh, _Emil_ …!"

It was a small lie, but it made Marta happy and that was what he chose to focus on. Even if it wasn't his primary reason for wanting this pact, being able to hear Marta's voice, no matter how busy they both were or what was keeping them apart at the moment was important to him as well. Any bond that could exist between them he wanted to tie. He wanted to live in a world where he was by her side, rather than alone with his memories and thoughts.

They confirmed to one another that they were ready for the ceremony one more time. Then, Sheena stepped forward, one of her rings held up high.

"I am Sheena! I seek a pact with Ratatosk!"

Emil's body tensed up. "I am Ratatosk, and already bound in a pact… with Mithos."

"Mi…thos?" Marta muttered quietly. It was obviously the first time she heard of this, as proven by the confused glances she threw at both, Emil and Sheena.

Sheena didn't seem quite as befuddled, but still her mouth formed a small O-shape. She had a look in her eyes as if she suddenly understood very clearly what all of this was about.

"I see… So, he really did get to you too."

"I cannot have pacts with two people at once," Emil stated as factually as he could. "Now, Sheena! You who possess the right of the pact! What will you do?"

She didn't miss a beat.

"Ratatosk, I ask that thou annulst thy pact with Mithos and establish a new pact with me!"

…Oh, how satisfying it was to hear those words. It was a feeling like cutting a string that had been warped around his neck for far too long. Neither Sheena, nor Marta could miss the calm, relieved smile on Emil's lips right before he answered Sheena's request.

"Alright. It's done. All that's left now is to test the pact-maker's strength." Emil laid a hand on his sword. "I'm ready when you two are."

"Sheena, let's do this!

"Right. On your cue, Emil!"

"Okay… _Here I come!_ "

It should have been an easy battle. As skilled as Marta and Sheena were as fighters, without the Exsphere or the fake Core that neither of them had on their persons any longer, they were only normal humans. Sheena, who needed immense concentration to summon another Spirit to aid in the fight, and Marta, who was no longer able to use any of the magic she had access to on their previous journey, shouldn't have been much of a challenge for the Spirit of Mana at full power. However, as Emil had left behind a large amount of his strength in the Ginnungagap with Richter the playing field was fortunately somewhat leveled. While he was still much stronger than the average human, Sheena and Marta taking him on 2 on 1 helped make things fairer. Additionally, he'd made sure to stuff Marta's bag with all the Gels and Bottles he could fit in before the fight to make up for her inability to use Healing Artes. He wasn't allowed to consciously hold back in this battle, the ancient laws forbid it. However, with his current convenient handicap and all the pre-battle preparations they had done together, Emil knew that the girls would be able to beat him, just as long as they shared his confidence.

The fight carried on for quite a while. After attempting to summon Origin and Maxwell a few times only to have her concentration broken by a speedy flurry of Artes from Emil's side, Sheena gave up and instead focused entirely on direct attacks and her Spirit Seals. She cycled through them, trying to find an elemental weakness for a while, and, when she failed to find one, resorted to casting her Light Seal on both, herself and Marta.

"It's probably not enough for a Photon, but the magic boost should help! Let's go, Formation B!"

"Alright, I'll do my best!"

Marta and Sheena had planned for this, of course. They traded places, Marta tossing Sheena her bag of healing items and taking the frontlines in her stead. Now the duel was between Marta and Emil, her spinner quickly locking with his blade.

"Don't hold back just 'cause it's me!" Emil warned Marta.

"Like I'd ever~ !" she teased.

Emil had a reason to be nervous. The last time they'd fought each other had been at the Ginnungagap, when he had pretended to be their enemy, seeking his own demise. Marta didn't want him to think of that memory right now. She wanted to keep this experience firmly anchored in the 'now', as a part of their life and the future they were walking towards together. So rather than the grim, serious face she'd worn fighting Emil by Lloyd's side, now, in this battle, she wore a smile. Right, it reminded him: This what they were fighting for right now: An oath that would always keep him close to this powerful, radiant smile, no matter what happens.

_Even though he knew that 'always' was impossible._

Marta wore down Emil. She'd been fighting by his side for so long that she knew all his tricks, the way he liked to move, the usual path of his weapon and his weak points. His battle style being as wild and unrestrained as it was, he tended to overexert himself within the first 10 minutes of a battle, especially without the ability to replenish health. It was all a matter of keeping him on his toes and skillfully dodging his Artes. Finally, she saw him beginning to stumble in his steps.

"Sheena! Now!"

"Alright! _The source of Heaven, Earth, and everything in between, the ruler of all. I summon thee. Come, Origin!_ "

The next thing that Emil knew was that his King was standing before him, smirking down at his small form confidently. ' _Ah, this probably wasn't the most dignified way to meet him again after 4000 years_ ', Emil briefly thought to himself, before a blinding lightning rained down onto him and everything went white.

When he opened his eyes again a few moments later, Emil was on the ground, Sheena standing above him with one of her seal cards brandished. He sighed. So that was that then, huh? … But what was that dull, odd feeling, he just barely sensed from the back of his mind? Wait. This perspective, this pose, the sensation of the grass on his back. Why did this scene feel so… familiar?

"I believe that's a win for us," Sheena proclaimed, grinning down at her opponent, who was pinned to the ground.

The emotion that broke out from somewhere deep inside Emil that moment, he wouldn't even have been able to describe in any of his clear moments. But… this wasn't a clear moment.

_It just wasn't._

He didn't feel in control of himself, his feelings, of _anything_ when he roared and lunged upward, grabbing for Sheena's collar and before violently throwing her to the ground with his bare hands.

"Ugh-!"

Marta shrieked at the sigh. "Emil! What are you doing!?"

He didn't hear her. Her voice couldn't break through the thick haze enveloping his mind. Nothing could reach. Nothing felt real. Nothing, except for this one, powerful feeling: ' _Get away from me._ '

But that person was still there, still much too close. The further away that person got, the better. That's all he could think when he picked Sheena, who hadn't had the time to recover from the previous attack, up again, this time to throw her into a nearby rock.

Who knows what he'd have done next, had he kept going like that? But-

_"Emil! STOP!"_

This time, Marta's voice reached. It broke and dispersed the haze, and suddenly Emil was back in the real world, where time now seemed to pass in slow, agonizing seconds. One second to catch his breath. One second to think about what he has just been doing. One second to stare at his hands.

"W…Wha…?"

Marta's first stop wasn't by his side. Instead, she'd made a beeline behind it, to the spot where Sheena laid.

"Sheena! Sheena, are you alright!?"

Emil turned slowly, his mind already having pieced together what had just happened, but his heart not wanting to believe it was real. But when he looked behind him, there they were: Sheena, covered in awful scratches and bruises and, by her side, Marta, tending to her wounds.

Sheena was moving. She soon sat up, clenching her teeth, and assuring Marta that she was okay, that she just needed a few Gels and she'd be good as new again.

Emil wanted to scream.

* * *

He washed his hands in the basin, not because he actually thought they were dirty, but because, according to Martel, it was part of the procedure, and he knew well that procedures were meant to be kept. He also made sure to firmly sheathe his claws and wrap cloth around the tufts of fur on his arms and hands. While he knew that, as a Spirit, no matter how many battles he fought, his hands would always remain pristine, he also accepted that to humans and half-elves the thought of finding what looked like squirrel hair in their dinner was perhaps a little unappetizing.

"I'm ready."

"Good! You can get started by cutting the carrots," Martel called, herself already hard at work with the onions. "Wait just a moment, I will show you the best way to do it."

Recently the Yggdrasil siblings had started to teach him how to cook. Not because Mithos had ordered or pushed him into it. This had been a request of his own to them. After weeks of partaking in their meals, fascination had just won out over practicality, he supposed. Waiting for Martel to join him, Ratatosk picked one of the carrots from the bag next to him and eyed it. He thought about how easy it would be to bite through it just the way it was and wondered if there was any point in cutting it at all. Why not use it whole? Then again, it probably wouldn't fit on a fork that way, and if there was one thing he had already learned about meals, it was that People greatly preferred seeing others eat with tableware, as opposed to their hands.

"Alright, Hazel. Let's begin."

'Hazel'. The sound of it still made him blush a bit. It was a nickname Martel had given to him after her repeated failure to pronounce his name correctly. Mithos had taken to using it as well recently. As odd as it struck him, he didn't mind being called that. It was definitely better than being consistently mislabeled as 'Rat-Attacks'.

Martel walked up behind him, gently taking the carrot he'd been examining out of his hands and placing it on the clean, wooden plank he was using as his workspace. She then placed a knife in his right hand and laid her own hands above his. Even through the cloth wrappings he could feel the warmth of her touch. He wondered if this was what People would call 'motherly'.

"When cutting vegetables, it's important you hold them firmly in place, so the knife can't slip when you apply pressure. Also make sure to keep your fingers as far as possible from the part you're cutting. I know that healing cuts is simple for you, but it's still preferable to avoid them altogether."

He closely listened to her instructions and watched her move his hands to demonstrate what she was saying. Occasionally he'd nod to let her know he'd understood. It all seemed exceedingly simple – or so he thought, until she took her hands off his to let him try for himself, and he immediately slipped and cut his finger.

" _ACK_ -!"

"Oh dear. Are you alright?"

He nodded, clenching his teeth. Of course, the wound didn't bleed, but even so it still hurt. He quickly gathered a small amount of Mana and mended the cut.

"You need to be more careful," Martel warned. It almost sounded like she was scolding him.

Like a child. Even though he'd existed for thousands of years longer than her.

"I just need to practice," he claimed. "Let's keep going."

He'd considered calling her out for her disrespectful treatment, but he found that he couldn't. There was too much kindness in her words. Maybe, he thought, it was only normal that to mortals, who begin their existences full of life that gradually slips away and withers, the Spirit of Mana, the source of life itself, would come across as 'childlike'.

They spent some more time cutting vegetables together, allowing him to get a feel for the most efficient ways to cut different types. Gradually, with every new piece cut, his dexterity improved. Carrots, onions, garlic, and potatoes. Today's dish would be his favorite stew. He wanted to try crushing the roasted hazelnuts too, but Martel insisted that this was still too difficult for a beginner like him and did it herself, instead. It was when he was in the middle of stir frying the vegetables in preparation of adding them to the soup she had prepared, when Martel addressed him unprompted.

"Hazel… May I talk to you about something for a moment?"

"Hm?" He looked at her, still using one hand to stir.

"I have already brought this up to Yuan and Kratos… I think it's only right that you should know as well, given how close you've become."

"Close to what? What is it, Martel?"

"It's about my brother. Mithos." She sighed. "As of late, I've been worried that he has been… changing."

"Changing? In what way?"

"It began before he forged pact with you, but it's only gotten more pressing. Something he said when we witnessed the fire in the Imperial City of Tethe'alla after the king refused our warnings has worried me." She paused. " _Where will we ever be able to go?_ -That's what he said."

"Where you should go? Aren't you free to go wherever you want?"

"Things aren't this simple. Mithos desires a place he can call home. But him and I are half-elves. There aren't many places our kind is appreciated in this world."

"What about Heimdall? Didn't you use to live there?"

Martel lowered her head, "We were chased out of Heimdall, because of an incident Mithos blamed for, as he used his powers when the ancient laws forbid it. But really, we were expelled for being half-elves. There is no way around it."

"I… see." Ratatosk was stunned. While he'd known that half-elves weren't appreciated by elves and humans, he couldn't imagine why anyone wouldn't welcome the presence of people as genuine and pure as Mithos and Martel. Could People really hate People for a reason as silly as the blood in their veins? It struck him as strange. Then again, people _were_ strange. He was very aware of that fact.

"Personally, I think we can live anywhere if we try," Martel assured him. "I don't believe our 'lack of a home' for the time being is as pressing an issue as the current state of the world. But sometimes, I'm not sure Mithos agrees anymore…"

"I think you worry too much," Ratatosk said. "His vow is clear. He swore to protect the world and my Tree. I have no doubt that that is where his priorities lie."

"I have faith in him as well. But he is still only a child. I just can't help but wonder, what if one day the convictions that allow him to be so strong in the face of hardship at his young age were to break?"

"Martel…"

"Forgive me. I know my words probably sound foolish. But even if it is only a possibility-"

"They _are_ foolish. It won't happen," Ratatosk spoke firmly, without a hint of doubt. "He will never break the promises he's made."

"How can you know?"

"I know because I have faith in Mithos," he looked right into Martel's eyes. "I have placed my hopes in him. Haven't you?"

Martel faltered under his gaze. Stunned for a moment, her eyes wandered until, finally, she let out a sigh.

"…Perhaps you're right. I should try to have more faith in my brother."

"You really should. You are his sister, after all. Isn't family supposed to be important to People?"

"I would argue that faithful companions are just as valuable," Martel replied. "Such as Yuan or Kratos. Or you."

Martel's words, again, made him flustered. This time it was him who evaded the look of her gentle, warm eyes. His gaze wandered for a while and only when his line of sight met with the iron pan he had continued to absentmindedly stir in this entire time, he halted.

"Ah. It burned."

* * *

"I'm sorry! _I'm so, so sorry_!"

They were back in their house in Luin now, and Emil couldn't remember the last time he'd apologized so fervently and felt this justified in doing so. He stood in front of Sheena and Marta, both fresh out of the shower and wrapped in fluffy, warm bathrobes. Emil's first action upon regaining control of himself had been to summon several monsters to heal all of Sheena's wounds. Apart from her severely damaged clothing she was fine again. But that didn't undo what he'd done, or how he felt about it.

"Hey, hey, Emil, it's alright! I mean, that wasn't even the worst a Spirit has beaten me up yet. Hah, you should've seen how Gnome tossed me around!"

"It's _not_ alright!" Emil yelled. "I'm the one who asked you for this and then I go and just… brutalize you like that! That's unforgivable! This wasn't supposed to happen!"

He stepped back, sunk into the chair right behind him and slowly placed his left hand on his face.

"This was… never supposed to happen… again…"

Marta and Sheena looked at each other, worried. Of course, they both knew what he meant.

"Well, it is a little weird that you'd suddenly go into Ratatosk Mode again after all this time," Sheena admitted.

But Marta shook her head, "I don't think that was Ratatosk Mode."

"Hm?"

"Well, at least not the same one as before. That Mode shouldn't exist anymore. It's just a part of Emil's personality now, right? And besides, Ratatosk Mode was always super talkative and bragged a lot. But back there, Emil didn't say anything. He barely even looked awake."

"So, what, it's like a new sort of 'Ratatosk Mode', or something?"

"I don't want a 'new' one," Emil cut into the girls' conversation. "I just want this to be over! I want to _know_ what I'm doing at all times, and I want to have control over _what_ that is!"

While saying this, he slammed his own fist into his lap.

"Damn it… If I ever end up hurting anyone… my friends… maybe even Marta… while I'm like that, I won't be able to forgive myself!"

Tears fell from his wide-open eyes. For a few moments, it was quiet in the room.

"Emil…" Marta stood up, walking over to him. "That won't ever happen."

"How do you know that?" he didn't look at her. "How can you even say that, after what just happened!?"

She took his hand.

"I know, because I know you," she said. "I know you the way you really are. Whatever happened out there just now, I'm sure there's a reason for it. We'll figure out what it was together. So please, don't go and condemn yourself before we've even tried."

He almost wanted to ask her if this was a vow, but after tonight's events, that would just have been too painful to mention. He could feel the string around his neck again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I knew this story wouldn't get many comments (heh heh 12 years old game and all) I am incredibly thankful for what I've gotten so far and want to make that clear. Honestly, nothing gives me as much joy as reading or hearing a person's in-the-moment reactions to my writing. If I made someone feel something strong enough to prompt that sort of response, I feel like I've done my 'job' well. So yeah... if you ever feel like rambling, please ramble. Ramblings give me life.
> 
> Sheena making a pact with Emil as Ratatosk is a concept that has fascinated me ever since I saw the optional scene were she makes him promise it. He IS a Summon Spirit in the end, even if he functionally acts as a human party member in all the games he appears in.
> 
> Please don't do a drinking game for all the times this fic alludes to the fact that the mythological Ratatoskr is a magic squirrel. Your health is important.


	5. Crystal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a crystallization of power, and he knows just how awful a thing that can be.

_‘Let’s try again!’_ were not the words he’d expected to hear from Sheena the morning after their disastrous first attempt at a pact, after which they’d let her spend the night at their house to recover. Emil almost spit out his breakfast when the young Chief of Mizuho made the suggestion. He wanted to ask her if she was insane. Sheena, however, remained adamant.

“It really wouldn’t be my first time refighting a Summon Spirit after a failed first attempt. This time I’ll know exactly how to go about it right from the start!”

“It’s so cool how confident you are even after getting hurt like that, Sheena,” Marta admired.

“Ahahah… Well, I wasn’t always like that,” Sheena awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck. “I guess after hearing all of those motivational speeches for years, Lloyd ended up rubbing off on me a bit.”

“Are you sure about this?” Emil asked. “What if I lose control again? We have no idea how bad it could get! This time, I might-“

“We’ll just have to prepare for the case,” Sheena argued, and Marta went on to agree with her.

“Yeah! I mean, we still don’t know what triggered it, right? It might’ve been a one-time thing. Or maybe it’ll keep happening and we’ll have to figure out a way to stop it. But unless we try again, we’ll never know.”

“Marta…”

“I’m right here with you, Emil. As long as I believe in you, don’t you dare go doubting yourself.”

Their second attempt happened in the afternoon, right outside the town walls. The battle began, continued on for half an hour, then ended. This time Sheena and Marta won. Emil did not consider himself a loser either. Nothing strange had happened, nothing had gone wrong. Everything went well, just as Marta and Sheena told him it would. Why had he ever been afraid to begin with? When he sat there on the ground, trying to catch his breath, Emil had a hard time doing so, because he couldn’t stop himself from laughing heartily. He laughed and laughed, until Marta walked over to his side and lent him a hand to help him stand Once back on his feet, and having thanked Marta, he turned to Sheena and cleared his throat. It was time for that overly stiff and formal voice again.

“Ahem… Sheena! I judge you worthy of my pact. Now, state your Vow!”

Sheena took a step forward and nodded. There was a kind smile on her face, the sort that Emil thought looked ‘motherly’.

“Ratatosk – And by that, I mean Emil. I swear that, as long as I’m alive, I’ll be your friend and do whatever I can to help protect the world you’re guarding for us. In exchange, as part of the terms of our pact, I ask you be bound to Marta and heed her call just as you would heed the call of your Summoner… and that you give a portion of the power you currently hold to her.”

“Huh?” That part took him off-guard. “My… power?”

Marta grinned. “Yeah… Sorry, to spring that on you like that! We couldn’t find a good way to bring the idea up.”

“Marta and I talked last night, Emil. Since you’re still so scared of your power hurting anyone, we thought that this might be the best way to handle the situation for now. That way, Marta can hold you back if anything else happens, but you’d still be just as strong as long as the two of you are fighting together.”

“That would make me a lot less useful for you to summon though. Are you sure?”

Sheena laughed, “I already told you: I don’t care about using your power. I’m doing this because we’re friends. And this is not just my vow, but everyone else’s in our group, too. Got it?”

“Sheena… Marta, I…” Emil was unsure what to say, until he looked at the girls and the confident smiles they gave him. There didn’t appear to be a hint of doubt in their eyes that this is what they wanted to do. “…I accept.”

If they had no doubt, then why should he? It wasn’t as if he cared much about using his powers in this life either.

The oath was sealed. Emil bestowed the symbol of Ratatosk’s power, a red Spinel, onto Sheena to attach to one of her pact rings. The Mana-lines between the three of them were tied, and high-fives and laughter were exchanged. The celebrations were interrupted just briefly, when the noise of someone’s body hitting the floor sounded out in short distance. The group spotted the twins, Dida and Moll, the latter of which had just fallen out of a nearby tree and both of which, upon realizing they had been discovered, hurriedly made their way back to Luin.

“Oh…” Was Emil’s stunned reaction.

Marta laughed nervously, “You… think that’s going to cause any problems?”

As if they didn’t already know the answer.

* * *

Once in a while a time would come when Mithos would call upon his Summon Spirits for a purpose more familiar to them than the friendly gatherings he liked to hold. This was one such occasion. On a hill, just a short walk away from their target, they sat hidden by Solum’s constructs and Tenebrae’s darkness. Though nobody could see them they had a perfect view of the enormous military base they were about to put out of commission.

“Alright, everyone, let us go over the plan one more time.” Mithos had a crudely drawn map of the camp’s interiors spread out on the floor. “Solum will go with my sister and Yuan and make them look like Sylveranti generals. They’ll claim they have urgent business and head straight for the administrative building. In the meantime, I’ll use the combined power of Shadow and Tenebrae to create a veil of darkness and sneak around in this area to find the main generator. I’ll send the Sylph to keep my sister and I in contact. Once Yuan and she are done copying all the information we need and wiping the main system, I will use Volt to overload the generator with Lightning Mana. That should hopefully put the facilities out of commission and destroy any digital backups they still have. Of course, blowing out their power supply like that is definitely going to put the entire camp on high alert. That’s where Hazel comes in.”

Ratatosk could hear Undine and Gnome snicker at the nickname behind him. He chose to ignore them.

“You’ll summon an army of Monsters to keep the soldiers busy. Don’t have them seriously hurt them, that’s not what we’re aiming for! Just make them chase everyone outside the camp, until its empty.”

“Alright,” Ratatosk nodded.

“Once the base has been abandoned, it’s Kratos’ turn. You’ll guide Gnome to dig underneath the facility, help him locate the pillars securing the building’s foundation here, here and here, and then… bam. The building should collapse, destroying the majority of the weapons inside without, hopefully, a single casualty. Meanwhile, we’ll escape with what we’ve taken, using the power of the Spirits to protect us in the chaos.”

“And once Mithos and his friends have left the premises, us Elemental Spirits will conjure up a storm to protect them from being followed,” Undine added.

“Hm,” Kratos traced the map with his fingers. “It looks like a solid enough plan.”

“You say that, but from the sound in your voice, you don’t seem happy with it,”Mithos pointed out.

“I’m worried about eventualities. There is no telling what will happen if any of us are discovered prematurely.”

Ratatosk stepped forward, “If you are discovered, just leave it to me. Call my name and I will protect you.”

Martel shook her head, “We appreciate the thought, but our safety isn’t the entire issue. This operation is a massive undertaking, we will probably have only one attempt at it. If we fail now, we will have to rethink our entire strategy going forward.”

“And that would be a loss of time this world and the Giant Kharlan Tree cannot afford,” Sephie, the eldest of the three Sylph, said.

“Yes…” Ratatosk clenched his hands into fists. “You’re right.”

“Alright then,” Mithos sighed. “Let’s discuss the plan one more time and see if there aren’t any more holes that we can patch.”

They reexamined the plan inside and out. It was decided that with the Spirits Mithos had pacts with so far, their best bet was to let Ventus, Centurion of Wind, and Fairess, the youngest of Sylph, watch over the entire operation from above and ring alarm as soon as anything outside of the expected happened. In a worst-case scenario, Ratatosk would direct his monsters to free the way for Yuan and Martel so they would be able to escape with the stolen information and goods.

“I think that settles it. Everyone, when you’re ready, let’s go.”

On Mithos’ command his friends, Spirits and the Centurions began the massive operation of dismantling and looting the most strategically important base of Sylverant’s military. If they succeeded they knew they’d gain more than just time; they would get their hands on the secrets of one of the most revolutionary weapons employed by the Sylveranti forces. Perhaps they’d even find a way to use it for the good of everyone.

* * *

In a small town like Luin rumors spread quickly. It didn’t take two days for Emil and Marta to start notice the people out in the street whispering whenever they passed them by. It was an uncomfortably familiar feeling for Emil and made it hard for him to walk around town without either getting into a sour mood or falling back into his old habit of hiding his face, which upset Marta enough to eventually make her snap at a group of passersby, loudly asking them what their problem was.

“Does this place EVER change!? It’s like you _want_ him to be uncomfortable just being here!”

“Oh, oh no!” To Marta’s surprise, the people she had just yelled at threw themselves to her and Emil’s feet and apologized.

“Forgive us, Lady Lualdi, Emil!”

“Yes, we promise, we meant no disrespect!”

“We would never want to upset a divine emissary!”

Emil and Marta could only slowly turn their heads towards one another and stare in confusion. ‘Divine emissary’?

A few conversations in town later the situation became clear. Apparently, news had spread in town that Dida and Moll had witnessed Marta and Sheena the Great contact a Summon Spirit through Emil, in a ceremony clearly meant to endow Marta with amazing powers. Word on the street was now that all along Emil had really been the incarnation of a Summon Spirit, sent by the Goddess Martel to test the righteousness of the town of Luin, as well their faith in her humble servant, Lloyd the Great. And now, said Spirit incarnate had, apparently, chosen the righteous Luin as the new center of his worship and thus named Marta as his first servant and priestess.

“That’s, like, only 20% correct!” Emil sounded exasperated, though really, he was surprised they got even that much right.

Marta gave an awkward laugh, “Hey! At least it’s a good 20%, right? I mean, not a passing grade on an exam, but still!”

“And anyway, Lord Emil, ‘Divine Emissary’ is quite the step up from ‘Local Cursed Child’, wouldn’t you agree?” Tenebrae, who happened to be visiting right now, smirked.

Emil sunk deeply into his seat. His head held in his hands, he groaned.

“Can’t I just be… a guy? Please? I really liked being ‘just a guy’ these past couple months!”

“Hah, you know what they say! Heavy lies the crown on the head that wears it.”

“You’re enjoying this way too much, Tenebrae…”

Emil almost sounded like he was about to cry at this point. Marta’s smile was a little crooked, but she still tried to look and sound comforting when she walked over to Emil’s side, placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “Well, there’s no crying over spilt milk now. Let’s try to make the best of it.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess.”

But really, mentally he was going through the property prices in various towns all over the planet. He wondered if Regal would make them a special offer on a condo in Altamira if they just asked nicely enough…

Still, all in all, the situation wasn’t _entirely_ unmanageable. As annoying it was having to constantly ward off the people knocking on their door bringing edibles as ‘offerings to Lady Martel’ or the priests from the local church asking for Emil’s ‘divine blessing’, Tenebrae was right in one regard: This was still much better than back when everybody hated Emil and wanted him gone. Things would probably never again be as bad as they’d been then.

The most noticeable result was that Emil and Marta had decided to spend a lot more time indoors for the time being, at least until most of the rumors had blown over and people stopped paying as much attention to the both of them – whenever that might be. At least Marta seemed to enjoy the added amount of private time the two of them now spent together. _‘There’s nothing more romantic than waiting out a storm together, wouldn’t you agree?_ _♡_ _’_ she sometimes teased Emil at night, when the two of them were having tea. There were also other things they now had more time for than they usually would have had. Just a couple days after the fact, Emil woke up in the morning to find Marta, armed with a brush and comb, examining every inch of her own face closely in the mirror.

“*yawn* What are you doing, Marta?”

“-Oh! Morning, Emil.”

She didn’t take her eyes of the mirror even while greeting him. That made Emil curious, so he sat up in bed and took a better look at what she was doing. He didn’t take long to realize that Marta was playing with her bangs, repeatedly hiding and exposing a glimmer of red gemstone shining through from underneath.

“Oh…”

Right, he remembered. That was the way the portion of his power he’d given to Marta as part of the pact had manifested on her. They’d tested it a bit already, and she had gained the ability to cast magic again, but in exchange another red gem had latched itself onto her forehead. It wasn’t quite as big as the last one and had a far more aesthetically pleasing shape, probably because it wasn’t formed in a rush like before. In fact, it was small enough that Marta could probably have gotten away with claiming that it was an Exsphere, but it was clearly there, a part of her appearance.

“Does it… bother you?” Emil asked carefully.

“Hm?”

“The jewel, I mean.”

“Huh? …Oh! Oh no! Don’t worry about it!”

Marta had finally turned around to look at Emil. She underlined her words with gestures.

“I’m pretty used to it. It was actually weirder not having anything up there at all the last couple of months. I’m just trying to figure out how I wanna style my hair around it… I mean, now that nobody’s going to come after and kill me for it, I don’t exactly need to hide it anymore.”

Emil was quiet for a few moments.

“…The last time I placed a gem like that on you, it wasn’t really for the best reasons.”

“Oh, that again? C’mon! You know I was never mad with you for that, right?”

“Yeah, I know… It’s just… kind of weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“The thought that we’re doing this again… Putting a part of my power onto you, just so I can feel safer.”

“But this time, it’s because I asked for it.”

It was strange, how well Marta always knew what to say to make him feel better about himself. He didn’t like the thought that he was using Marta to protect him from his own power, but she assured him that this wasn’t what it was. That she was glad to have the ability to cast some basic spells again, and that she enjoyed the idea of having something of his with her at all times.

“Plus, Richter and I match now! So that’s kind of cute, seeing how we both got so much history with you,” she eventually joked, only to quickly revise the statement once she’d thought through its implications. “T-That doesn’t mean I’m ready to share you with him, though!

“Heh heh. Don’t worry. I didn’t think you were.”

…Talking of Richter, it was really about time he went to visit him again one of these days. He’d promised to check in at least once every other week, and while Richter said he wouldn’t hold him to it, Emil still felt the bit of company he could offer was the least he owed to the man after everything. Actually, now that Emil shared his power with Marta, she might even be able to come along. The barrier he’d placed locked out humans and half-elves, but Marta now had a portion of the power of a Spirit. He decided to propose a visit to the Gingungagap to her at the next possible opportunity, but that would probably have to wait until the inhabitants of Luin stopped interpreting each of the couple’s actions as a divine sign from Martel herself.

Which really was taking quite a while.

It was on a beautiful, sunny day, when Marta and Emil left their house clad in huge hats and oversized sunglasses that were definitely not going to fool anybody – but hey, they could at least try, right? – when at the Sunday market in Luin’s main square, a commotion that was mercifully not related to the both of them broken out.

“I’ve heard the Chosen of Regeneration and Lloyd the Great are in town!” one of the customers a few stands over proclaimed loudly.

“Really? Well, we need to make sure to give them a warm welcome!” another one proclaimed.

“You heard the man! Discounted fruit for everyone!”

The shopkeeper making that last remark was immediately swarmed by more people than he could possibly serve with his small stand. Meanwhile, Emil and Marta packed up the fish and produce they’d just bought and removed themselves from the crowd.

“Lloyd and Colette are in town?” Emil repeated to Marta.

She understood his confusion, “Yeah, that’s weird. They didn’t send a letter saying they were coming to visit, did they?”

“Maybe they _did_ and some of the crazies stole our mail again,” Emil sighed.

“…I hate how much sense that makes,” Marta gave a little groan.

“What do you think they’re here for? Last I checked, they were still hard at work gathering Exspheres.”

“We should ask them ourselves. Let’s try looking around!”

“You mean… out in town?”

“Don’t worry. Everybody is probably much too busy talking about Lloyd and Colette right now to even notice us! …I hope.”

“Ahahahah…hah…”

They spent some time looking around town after that, however, questioning the mayor, the weapon’s shop and Inn’s proprietors and Alba all proved fruitless. (Judged by the awkward look on his face upon seeing Emil, though, Alba clearly was looking for a way to address the elephant in the room throughout the entirety of their short conversation with him. Emil knew he would have a lot to explain to him and Flora the next time they talked.) Despite the claims of the gossipers in the market, it didn’t seem like anybody had actually _seen_ Lloyd and Colette in town yet.

“Just a rumor then,” Marta mused, kicking a pebble by the wayside. “I guess we should’ve known better than to just believe what a random guy in the market says. I mean, this IS the same town that apparently comes up with a new secret origin story for you every other week.”

“I’m kind of a case of the truth being stranger than fiction though. I can’t really fault the town for being confused by me…”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“Anyway, we should probably get home and put away the groceries.”

“Ah! That’s right, the fish! By now it’s probably-“

“Don’t worry. I’ve been using Glacies’ power to cool it. It should still be fine.”

“…Really? Talk about mundane utility.”

“So what? It’s convenient.”

The two of them kept chatting like that, skillfully avoiding the looks of the townsfolk as they made their way back home. They were one street away from their door when a couple of familiar voices met their ears.

_“Hm… Still no one coming.”_

_“You think they’re out?”_

_“Looks like it. I mean, we are kind of dropping by unannounced.”_

_“Oh, I know! We should leave them a note saying that we’ll come back next week! That way they’ll know to be there when we come by again.”_

_“That’s assuming that they won’t be gone all week.”_

_“I guess so… Maybe we should ask the neighbors?”_

Emil and Marta listened up.

“Hey, those voices…”

“Collette!! Lloyd!”

Marta was a bit faster than Emil, sprinting down the last bit of the way. He followed her with quick steps of his own. There they were, right in front of the young couple’s house: Sylverant’s golden-haired Chosen and her famous companion in red.

“Oh! Emil, Marta! There you are!” Colette happily clapped her hands together. “Long time no see!”

“Yeah! It has been a while,” Marta laughed.

Emil caught up, “It’s nice to see you guys. But what brings you here?”

While saying that, Emil took notice the fact that Lloyd was holding a small metal tool in his hand… One that made it look like at some point in his conversation with Colette, the idea of Lloyd breaking open the front door’s lock and the two of them waiting for Emil and Marta inside the house must’ve at least come up.

“You must’ve… _really_ wanted to meet us, huh?

“Um-“ Lloyd noticed where Emil was looking. “Ah… Ahahah...”

Turning a little red, he quickly tugged the apparent lockpick away in his pocket. Emil chose to leave it at that. A breach of property intended but not committed is no breach of property at all, he decided.

Marta tugged on Emil’s sleeve, “Hey, let’s bring in the groceries before asking anything else. Talking inside would be a lot more comfortable anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Despite Emil having told them the address, this was actually the first time Lloyd and Colette had visited him and Marta in Luin like this. Marta made sure to warn Colette about the first step in the doorway so she wouldn’t trip over it (she almost did anyway). The groceries were quickly stored away and the stove heated to fry up the fish they’d bought for dinner. In the meantime, Emil made tea for himself, Marta and their guests. Everyone took a moment to settle down around the table before they began talking.

“So, it’s like this: Lloyd and I were looking for Exspheres around the Palmacosta region when we ran into a traveling merchant. Those people often carry a lot of different kind of items around with them, so we thought he might be carrying or have recently sold some Exspheres. So, we talked to that man and he told us some really strange things!”

Lloyd nodded, “He started talking about how Luin was set to become the next big tourism spot for the followers of the Church of Martel because some sort of powerful divine medium and his entourage had shown up there. We thought that sounded suspicious so… here we are.”

“Yes! Do you know something about that story, maybe? Really, anything would help us out a lot!”

Once again, for the X-th time this week, Emil and Marta starred at each other for a few seconds and then sighed.

“A…Am I the ‘entourage’?” Marta wondered, half-crying.

Emil buried his face in his hands, “Now I’ve graduated from ‘emissary’ to ‘medium’! How much more is this rumor going to mutate?”

“Um, what?” Lloyd looked plenty confused. “What are you guys talking about?”

“It’s _us_.” Marta groaned, “ _We’re_ the ones those rumors are about.”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, you see, what happened is…“

While Marta proceeded to explain the whole story to Lloyd and Colette, Emil moved over to the stove and began cooking the fish, mostly to calm his nerves. The idea that somewhere out there, there were merchants going around claiming he was a divine medium with the ability to channel _Martel_ , of all people, had his head spinning. Occasionally he’d chime into the ongoing conversation over at the table to elaborate on details Marta had either forgotten or excluded, but for the most part, he left the explaining to her.

“…and that’s why Emil and I can’t go out in public anymore these days.” she finally finished.

By the end of it, Emil wasn’t the only one reeling from the story. Lloyd looked pretty done with everything as well.

“Aw, man…! So, the whole rumor just started because someone saw Emil doing Summon Spirit stuff with Sheena? Talk about a false lead!” he let himself fall back into the chair. “I thought there might be someone using an illegal Exsphere here… Like, a conman or a false prophet, or something.”

“Sorry that my legit superpowers are a disappointment to you,” Emil over at the stove threw in in a sardonic tone, though he sounded less annoyed by Lloyd than by the entire surrounding situation.

Marta gave Lloyd a sympathetic look, “I take it the Exsphere journey isn’t going well?”

“Right now, it’s not going much of _anywhere_ ,” Lloyd replied. “We keep bumping up against dead ends like this all the time! There’s just got to be a better way…”

“It’s not all bad, Lloyd!” Colette attempted to cheer him up. “Just the other week, we found a bakery still using an Exsphere to power their ovens! And then there was that masked fighter in the arena in Meltokio who was winning all his battles using an Exsphere! We collected those two just fine. Plus, because of those two cases, we now know that most of the Exspheres still in use come from the same group of black market Exsphere Brokers in Tethe’alla. So, if we track those people down, I’m sure we’ll find a whole bunch more all at once!”

“Colette is right,” said Emil. “That really doesn’t sound like you’re ‘not going anywhere’. I mean, even if it's going slow, any Exsphere collected is still progress, right?”

The awkward frown on Lloyd’s face wouldn’t surrender its dominion.

“Emil. Do you have any idea how many Exspheres are out there?”

“Um. A lot?”

“Yes, a lot! Just _way too many_!”

A groan, a stomp and the noise Lloyd made when he almost fell out of the chair he was sitting on for moving around too much in it in his frustration. For once, it was Colette who stopped him from falling down, rather than the other way around. He topped it all off with another sigh.

“I promised my father I would gather them all and put them in a place where they can never be used by anyone ever again. But… At this rate, it’s gonna take an eternity to get them all rounded up and accounted for.”

“Hm… an eternity… How long do you think that is, Lloyd?” Colette wondered out loud.

“Um, like… 20 years, maybe?”

Marta almost spit out her tea. “T-twenty? You think… 20 years is an _eternity_?”

“Well, it is a pretty long time,” Colette stated sagely, and Lloyd agreed.

“Longer than I’ve been alive, at least.”

It was this remark that prompted Emil to interject something from his position behind the stove once again.

“… 827 eternities, I guess.”

“Huh?” Lloyd turned his head.

“That’s how old I’m by your weird measure,” Emil said without turning around. “Pretty much exactly 827… ‘eternities’.”

Colette’s mouth formed an O-shaped. “That’s right, I keep forgetting! Emil is technically older than life on this planet, isn’t he?”

“I don’t think it’s even much of a ‘technicality’ at this point,” Marta laughed. “Actually… Huh! You’re kind of older than Tenebrae, aren’t you!?”

“Why do _you_ sound so shocked by that?”

He sounded irritated saying that, but really, Emil knew Marta was just teasing him. He wasn’t in much of a ‘getting teased’ mood right now, though. The stress of the past few days was just getting to him. Maybe it would be better to drop out of the conversation and focus on the fish. It was time to turn it over anyway.

“Hah… I always thought immortality sounds kind of tedious. Though, I guess it’d be pretty convenient for something like this,” Lloyd sighed. “I bet looking for all these Exspheres wouldn’t be half as annoying if we had all the time in the world to do it.”

…Okay. He could drop out of the conversation _after_ commenting on _this_.

“Don’t talk about things you don’t know anything about,” Emil said.

Lloyd sat up, “Hm? What, I’m just saying. If you don’t have to worry about running out of time, the whole task gets easier, right?”

“You’re only saying that because you don’t have any real stamina.”

“Emil… That’s a bit…” Marta was starting to feel an uncomfortable amount of tension in the air. Colette, too, looked a bit intimidated by the two boys’ conversation.

For Lloyd, however, _it was on_ , “You’re starting to sound like my Dad, Kratos, now! Look, I’m not saying I think immortality is a _good_ thing. I know it’s really not.”

“Sure sounded like you were saying the opposite just a moment ago.”

“No, I mean… Listen. You don’t know how important finishing, I mean, _really_ seeing through this whole thing is. Not just to me, but to everyone. I get that you probably have no idea what Exspheres can do to people, or what they can _make_ them do, but to us-“

Lloyd’s sentence was cut short by the sound of Emil dropping his spatula in the sink with a loud, echoing ‘ _thud_!’ This entire conversation, he hadn’t turned around to look at Lloyd even once, and now he still wasn’t looking.

“The fish is ready. Hope you like it. I’m going to bed early,” he mumbled.

Marta got up, “Emil…”

“I’m tired.”

He took off his apron, messily stuffed it into a drawer and then headed upstairs for the bedroom. Behind him, he could hear Lloyd’s voice.

“Emil. I’m not sure what I said… but I’m sorry!”

He didn’t reply, just closed the door behind him. It took restraint to not smack it shut. Like he was still that clueless, little boy who didn’t know the first thing about the world. Like _he_ didn’t know about Exspheres. Like he didn’t _understand_ what they were.

* * *

“…! Oh no. Please, no…!”

“ _Mithos!_ ”

They could not have predicted how poorly their plan would go. There was no way for them to know that at the same time as their infiltration of this Sylveranti facility, on the other side of the world a group of Tethe’allan militia would be testing their monstrous creation of a weapon by tapping directly into the planet’s primary nexus of darkness-elemental Mana. Not only did Shadow lose a great amount of his power that moment, without the presence of the correct type of Mana to sustain him, Tenebrae was lost instantly, reduced to Core-form. The spell concealing Mithos from view was thus broken. The boy found himself standing exposed in midst of a horde of angry soldiers. He drew his sword to fight, but all on his own he could have never succeeded in making his way through alive. It was only thanks to the quick reaction of his Spirits, who, weakened as they were, still readily abandoned their previous posts to rush to their Summoner’s aid the moment it became necessary. None, however, fought as aggressively as Ratatosk. The hisses and roars of wild beasts rung through the entire facility, alongside the screams of its staff. In the end, having their way cleared by the combined efforts of Spirits and Monsters, the party managed to escape into a nearby valley. But the path they took was stained by blood. None of them had any doubt: Their plan to destroy the facility without any casualties had failed. By the time the building had collapsed into the ground, who knew how many Sylveranti soldiers, both dead and alive, were still inside…?

Mithos and Yuan were wounded especially badly, the former having even been rendered unconscious by attacking soldiers, the later having briefly ended up buried in rubble during their escape. Martel and Kratos did the best to tend to tend to them in any way they could. In the meanwhile, most of the Spirits and Centurions had dematerialized to recuperate the strength they had lost in the battle. Only Ratatosk, who was busy restoring the Mana-line to the Altar of Darkness, so Tenebrae’s Core could be sent there to recover properly, was still present. Once that was done, he turned his attention to the party’s medical efforts.

“…Will Mithos and Yuan die?” he asked.

For a moment Martel seemed shocked by the calm tone of the question, but then shook her head, “Their wounds are not nearly bad enough to cost them their lives, thank goodness… But they will need some rest. It was a harsh battle.”

“I see. That’s good.”

He hadn’t spent enough time observing humans and those carrying their blood to understand exactly how durable or how fragile they were. Most of his pacts until now had been with pure-blooded Elves, and though he had fought Mithos, the circumstances of said battle made it difficult for him to judge how much damage the boy could actually withstand…

“…Hazel.”

It seemed Mithos was awake. He looked tired, but his eyes were open, and he was looking straight at Ratatosk, who returned the look.

“Mithos. I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Attacking like that… That was against the plan.”

“…Hm?”

Mithos looked pained, and for some reason, Ratatosk could tell that it weren’t his wounds alone that were causing him to make this face. There was a strange sadness in his eyes.

“The plan… Wasn’t to hurt anyone…” he said. “But… all the people you attacked… Those wounds were serious… I’m sure some of them died.”

He wanted to argue, state that if he hadn’t broken with the plan and acted as aggressively as he did Mithos would have been killed, but seeing that look in Mithos’ eyes, he found that he couldn’t. It was true, after all, that as a Summon Spirit sworn to heed the Summoner’s command by the terms of their pact, he had failed to do just that.

“…You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Apologizing won’t bring those lives back, either,” Mithos mumbled, but then quickly corrected himself, “Ah, I mean… Forgive me, that was too harsh. You were only protecting me. If I were stronger, none of this would have happened in the first place, right?”

Ratatosk shook his head, “Even if you were stronger, you could not have prevented Shadow and Tenebrae from losing their power. You would have been discovered either way.”

“But if I were strong enough, then maybe we could have scared these people into abandoning the camp without ever infiltrating it in the first place.”

“That is a sort of strength that is difficult to obtain with the current state of the world, especially without risking depleting the planet’s Mana-reserves even further.”

“Mhm. I… I know,” Mithos sighed. “…But it’s a nice thought.”

Martel told them to spare each other with these difficult thoughts for now. The battle had been hard and had taken a lot out of all of them. They needed to take some time rest. And rest they did, until the evening, when Yuan awoke.

Ratatosk would later learn that that night, Yuan and Martel shared with the group what they’d found in the facility before destroying it: A few odd, luminous gemstones in a sealed box, along with documents that referred to these stones as the prototypes of something called the “High Exsphere Project”, as well as its possibly and intended uses. “Exsphere” was apparently what military forces with access to them had taken to calling these gems, as their most common form was a round cabochon, and they were applied externally. Upon being shown the stones a few days later, however, Ratatosk had a different name for them.

“Those are Dead Souls.”

“Dead Souls?” Mithos asked.

“The remains of beings that lived on this planet many ages ago. They are crystallization of what remains of those beings’ feelings and thoughts, formed over many hundreds of years. These crystals made of pure spiritual energy, much like the Cores of my Centurions that you’ve seen before. But they are supposed to exist only in rock layers far beneath today’s surface world. To see them above ground…”

“Apparently, both of the grand kingdoms have been mining for them in secret,” Kratos explained. “According to the documents Yuan translated, they have been used as a form of conduit for Mana by the most elite and trusted soldiers for quite a while now. Even high-ranking knights like Yuan and I were not aware that this kind of weapon was already in use.”

“That does make an amount of sense.” Ratatosk nodded. “Like all living beings, these crystals, too, are part of the cycle of Mana. …Though it wouldn’t entirely explain the power and magnified Mana-signatures of the soldiers we have been fighting until now. Those faint, ancient consciousnesses contained within shouldn’t be strong enough to draw such great amounts of environmental Mana.”

“Well, Yuan isn’t done transcribing the entirety of the Sylveranti text for us yet. There might still be more details,” Kratos said.

“I see.”

“According to what Yuan found out, the ones we found are prototypes of a special, especially strong kind of ‘Exsphere’!” Mithos explained, a light shining in his eyes. “A kind that can take even humans so far beyond the limits of their own strength that they can use their own, special kind of magic! Just think about that, Hazel!”

“Think about what?”

“How lucky we are, of course! Those are the only specimens of those ‘special’ gems that exist. If we use them, we can become even stronger than the strongest soldiers on either side of the war. Maybe even so strong that if we use them together with the power of the Spirits, nobody will even want to try and fight us anymore. We might be able to end the war just by scaring off both sides!”

The optimism in Mithos’ eyes was both infectious, but also frightening in a strange way. Ratatosk had never seen the boy speak so enthusiastically about the idea of raw power before. However, Mithos’ words made sense. After all, who would ever been foolish enough to march into their certain death? He knew very well what a great deterrent power alone could be. The gate his power guarded deep underneath the earth in the roots of his tree was proof of this fact.

“My sister wants us to be careful… but I want to start using them as soon as possible. The sooner I start training using one of these, the sooner I can be powerful enough to put an end to all of this!”

The consequences of the group agreeing to this decision of Mithos’ would soon make themselves apparent. Within the first month of equipping the ‘High Exspheres’, they all experienced strange side effects, and when Yuan then attempted to remove the stone, his internal mana began to deteriorate. He might have suffered an awful fate, hadn’t Martel, aided by Luna, Spirit of Light, acted quickly to save him. They then had to take an emergency trip to the underground village of Dwarves to craft the crests necessary to prevent this effect in the future. Shortly after, Martel herself began to experience a strange reaction to her own gemstone and crest, which led to her body turning into a crystal statue. She, too, would have died, hadn’t Mithos, riding on the back of the Centurion Ventus, brought her to the lake of the Unicorn in a hurry and pleaded, from a distance and in tears, for his sister’s life. Finally, the group learned about the horrid methods that were used to “awaken” the ‘Exspheres’ used by soldiers, and surmised that their own ‘High Exspheres’, too, must’ve been created using similar methods. It was at this point that the four of them seriously considered discontinuing the use of the stones. As they were ones who had been affected worst, Mithos thought it would only be fair to leave the final decision to Martel and Yuan. However, after the both of them had deliberated, Martel said to her brother,

“Mithos. You have been working the hardest out of anyone here to save this world. On this path that you’ve chosen, we will stand behind you until the very end. I… I do trust in your judgement. So, what do _you_ want to do?”

“I…” Mithos tried to hold his head high. He stood up to speak, “I want to keep fighting, with any means necessary! I know… our home is somewhere in this world. Until we’ve found a way to get and live there, in peace, without this ridiculous, pointless war, I can’t give up!”

And thus, they continued the use of the ‘High Exspheres’, even after that night.

Many of these events Ratatosk only learned about later, in second-hand accounts during brief chats with Martel or Kratos. The stronger Mithos became training with his Exsphere, the less frequently he called for the help of his Spirits. It was a good thing, Ratatosk supposed, since it meant the boy was becoming more confident in his own skill, but it also felt lonely. Sometimes he wondered if there wasn’t more to Mithos summoning him less often these days. That, maybe, attacking the humans during the raid on the military base in Sylverant had hurt the boys’ trust in him… Thinking about it that way made him strangely sad. He still sometimes got summoned to partake in the group’s dinners, or to guard them after battles when they were all too tired to keep watch. It was a night like this when the Spirit ended up straying away from the camp a few meters towards a clearing, so he could look up at the night sky. It was a beautiful, clear night, the stars above looking like a field of glowing flowers in full bloom. He was gazing up at the twin moons, thinking about how different this world had become from the barren rock only inhabited by demons it used to be when he first arrived here, when he heard footsteps approaching from behind. Mithos came and stood beside him.

“You should be asleep,” Ratatosk said.

“Couldn’t,” Mithos replied.

“Again? I thought that Dwarves’ crest resolved that issue?”

“No, it’s not like that. I guess I’ve just been… thinking too much.”

“Oh…” Ratatosk blinked. “Can people not sleep when they’re thinking?”

“Sometimes we can’t, yeah. Especially when they’re thoughts that upset us.”

“I see,” the Spirit looked up at the sky again. “I guess tonight I wouldn’t be able to sleep then either.”

“Hm?”

“I’m the same as you. I think I’ve been… thinking too much.”

Mithos paused for a moment, then asked, “About what?”

And Ratatosk, too, hesitated, before giving his reply. “Before this journey, I never knew what ‘doubts’ are like. My role in this world, as well as the one before it, has always been clear to me. There had never been any reason to question anything that happens in the world or my actions in response to it,” he lowered his head. “But, lately, it feels as if there are two voices inside me. One voice that says, ‘ _Don’t waste your time hesitating, do what needs to be done, and if something stands in your way cut it down, or you will regret your inaction_ ’, and another that answers ‘ _Ah, but what about the consequences? Aren’t the things that you break, the lives that you hurt and the sadness this causes all too important to ignore?_ ’ I’d never heard those voices- No, maybe, I just never found myself forced to listen before. But now, I can’t ignore them. In those moments I often wonder… Which of them speaks the truth, and which is a liar leading me astray?”

“Huh…” After listening to this, Mithos tilted his head a little. “How unusual.”

“What’s unusual?”

“It’s just… I don’t think I’ve ever heard you open up like this before,” Mithos admitted. “You’re usually, how do I put it… An _action-over-words_ -type of person? Much like Kratos. Rather than voicing what you feel, you state facts and let that or the things you do speak for you.”

“Well, I am not a ‘Person’ to begin with,” Ratatosk said, but Mithos shook his head.

“You may say that, but after hearing what you said just now, I’m surer than ever,” he paused. “I have those two voices too, you know?”

“You do?”

“All people do, at least, that’s what I think. There are times when I feel torn, just like you. ‘ _Ah, this is getting too much, let’s stop pretending there is a way to make this work and give up on trying_ ’ and ‘ _But if I give up here, I’ll never forgive myself for disappointing myself and everyone else._ ’”

Ratatosk was stunned by Mithos’ words, “…Yes! Exactly. That’s what it feels like.”

“But you know? I don’t think calling either of these voices a ‘liar’ would be quite correct,” Mithos said. His expression was gentle. “They’re both coming from inside our hearts. One of them might be weaker than the other, yes, but I don’t want to think of myself as a person who would intentionally lie to himself.”

“So, one of those voices is the heart’s weakness and one its strength? How do you know which is which?”

“Hm… Well, taking your example, I’d prefer to listen to the voice that sounds empathetic of the plight of those around you! I think doing that is a lot harder than to just blindly aim for your goals and ambitions. However… I know by now that following that sort of idealistic optimism is sometimes just naïve.” Mithos sighed. “No matter how much empathy you show others, it’s… not always returned. Especially when you’re a half-elf like me. And the High Exspheres we use to fight were paid for in the blood of suffering humans and half-elves. Once we started using them, we paid even further for them with our own suffering. It is almost too much to bear even just thinking about it. However, in exchange, we’ve gained incredible power. Maybe enough… No, I’m _sure_ that it will be enough to end this war. But without the sacrifices of the people who died for these stones, our own sacrifices… and, yes, also the blood that was spilled when we first retrieved them…” Mithos took a pained, but forgiving glance at the Spirit for a moment. “…I no longer think we could have ever gotten this far without all those sacrifices. I guess sometimes suffering just cannot be avoided, even when your goal is to get rid of it.”

“You’re strong, Mithos,” Ratatosk said. “You say you too grapple with two voices, but it doesn’t seem like you have any doubts.”

“I can’t allow myself to,” Mithos replied. “I’m the only one with the power to summon on our team. Everyone relies on me, and if I falter everyone will fall with me. That’s why I never want to lose any time trying to decide which voice is my strength and which is my weakness. I will keep heading whichever way I need to head to reach my goals. That is all there is to it.”

“And that’s why you’re strong.”

“No, actually, I… The reason I need to rely on that High Exsphere like I do is…”

_-All the things I see in you that make me think of you as a ‘person’, I wish I could reject in myself._

_If only there was a magic to fashion an armor out of that weakness and protect me from this world._

* * *

He woke up drenched in sweat and with wet eyes. A nightmare, again. That was all he saw when he closed his eyes these days. Nothing but memories he didn’t dare touching when he was awake. Why did he try to go to sleep at all? If this was how it was going to be every night, he would probably be better off stewing over his thoughts while awake.

Emil shook a little, then looked outside the window to judge how late it was. The sky was pitch-black but judged by the positions of the moons midnight hadn’t passed yet. When he turned to look beside him in the bed, Marta wasn’t there. Was she still downstairs? Maybe his behavior earlier had scared her enough to make her decide to sleep on the couch tonight. Emil bit his lip as he replayed the scene from before he went to sleep in his mind. He’d been unfair to Lloyd, no question, but even so, he couldn’t bring himself to regret being so cold with him. He wondered what Marta would think if she knew he felt that way and remembered how angry she’d been with him – his ‘Ratatosk-Mode’ side – back when she saw him at his most callous. How she’d barely even seen him as a ‘person’ for a while. He didn’t want her to ever feel about him that way again.

He decided to go downstairs. If she was still awake he would try to apologize, even if it would be difficult to sound sincere. At very least he wanted to know if she was sleeping well. Robbing her of sleep was one thing he knew he would definitely regret. When he came downstairs, the sound of voices beyond the door to the living room prevented him from laying hands on the knob. Marta was talking to someone… Did that mean Lloyd and Colette hadn’t left yet? For the time being Emil decided to just stand on the last stair and listen.

_“It really isn’t just that…”_ Marta. She sounded panicked. _“What happened when Sheena and I first tried to make that pact with him was just the same. Whenever anything from his past comes up, he starts starring off into the distance and making that face, like he’s in pain. I’d really like to believe it’s just the stress of everything that’s happened catching up with him, but I can tell there’s something he isn’t telling me.”_

_“He… might have a secret he is keeping from you because he doesn’t want you to worry about him.”_ That was Colette’s voice. _“I mean, the first thing he said to me after he came back was about how precious the time he’ll have with you is to him. He probably wants it to be fun.”_

_“How is it supposed to be fun when I’m always wondering why he’s still hurting? I just wish he would trust me with whatever is happening inside him.”_

_“That’s something you’ll have to ask him,”_ And that was Lloyd. _“Unless you confront him, he’s probably not going to open up to you. Not because he doesn’t trust you, but because your happiness is so important to him.”_

“ _Mhm…_ ” Colette agreed. _“You’ll have to make him spill the coffee.”_

_“Spill the coffee? …Huh?”_

_“Ah- She means, you’ll have to figure out the first part yourself. If you find something you can prove he is worried about, even if he tries to deny it, it’ll be easier to confront him about it.”_

There was a brief, meaningful silence in the room after that before Marta replied.

_“…Mithos_.”

_“Huh?_ ”

“ _D_ … _Did you just say_ ‘ _Mithos’!?_ ”

_“That name… That was when he looked like he was in the most pain. When he had to say it when we went through the ceremony with Sheena. I… I hadn’t seen him look that unhappy ever since he found out he was Ratatosk and what he’d done before losing his memory. That’s why I’m sure there was probably somebody named that in his past that’s causing him all this anguish…”_

_“Lloyd… Do you think…?”_

_“Yeah… I might have an idea. It’s probably-“_

That was the point he could no longer stand being hidden and opened the door. Marta, Lloyd and Colette all turned at once. They starred at him.

“Oh! Emil…” Colette said.

“Were you listening…?” Lloyd asked.

Marta only sat there, gazing at her boyfriend, forlornly and with a hint of guilt. He couldn’t look at her like that. Instead his eyes turned to the floor.

“I… I don’t want to talk,” he muttered. “Not yet.”

“Emil…” Marta sighed. 

“But! I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier. I got angry because you guys reminded me of some things I don’t like thinking about. I think I was right to be angry, but you don’t deserve having that anger aimed at you. Lloyd, you’re not responsible for my past…” Emil paused. “Marta, you’re not either. I know, you want to help me, but I need to figure this out for myself.”

“Are you sure?” Marta asked. “Please. Promise to let me know when you’re ready to talk.”

He nodded and tried to smile a little “Yeah. I’ll… ‘spill the coffee’ once I get there.”

“And don’t forget to tell us whether it was hot coffee or iced coffee!” Colette added.

“Um… huh? Am I supposed to be following the metaphor that far?”

“It’d really be weirder if you did,” Lloyd assured Emil.

They respected Emil’s decision to not speak about his issues yet. For now, the fact that he admitted Marta’s suspicions were right was enough. The rest would follow later. Rather than mulling over a past that Emil himself had trouble processing, the group spent the rest of the evening playing card games and eating food. The fish was already finished off by the time Emil came back down, and Marta assured him it had been delicious, however, they still had seconds,

“It wasn’t enough for three people, so Colette made Cream Stew. There’s still plenty left.”

“I tried my best. I hope you like it!”

Usually Emil barely found Colette’s cooking filling, but just this once it was the best thing he could imagine being served. The remaining time until midnight flew by, the nightmare he had earlier all but forgotten. Because it was so late Emil and Marta invited Lloyd and Colette to spend the night at their house. A pajama party between friends. It was these sorts of joyful moments that just a short while ago, Emil couldn’t have even imagined… and that, at the same time, reminded him of a time much, much longer ago. Even if those memories hurt, they were also beautiful. Seeing that same beauty in more recent moments gradually helped him rediscover his awareness of that fact. When the others went to sleep that night, Emil chose to stay awake, gazing up at the twin moons, thinking about how different this world would be if moments like these didn’t exist. He heard footsteps approaching from behind, and Lloyd came and stood beside him.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Lloyd asked.

“I don’t need to,” Emil replied.

“That sounds awful.”

“Actually, right now I’m kind of relieved I don’t.”

“Nightmares, huh?”

“Every night.”

“Oh… Yeah, that sucks…”

The two boys quietly stood next to one another for a brief while, watching the lights blooming in the night sky, before Lloyd spoke up again.

“…Hey. You sure you don’t want to talk about it yet? It might help you feel better.”

Emil shook his head, “I wouldn’t know where to start. I still have a hard time even remembering a lot of it, to be honest.”

“Wait. Isn’t your memory all back yet?”

“It’s back. But there’s a lot of it to go through. If I don’t actively try to remember something, I don’t usually think of it. I’m also not quite the same as I was at the Ginnungagap… I’d rather not think so far into the past when the human I’m supposed to be wouldn’t even have been alive then… even if I sometimes end up doing it anyway, like today.”

“And then you get nightmares,” Lloyd said. “…About Mithos? Mithos Yggdrasil?”

Emil said nothing but stared off into the distance. Lloyd quickly reeled himself back in.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t be the one asking this. This is Marta’s place, not mine. But, Emil, with everything you’re going through, I really just want you to know-“

“Please, don’t say that I’m ‘strong’,” Emil cut him off. “I really don’t feel ‘strong’ at all right now.”

“No. What I wanted to tell you is something I wish I had said to another friend when I still had the chance.”

“Hm? What’s that?”

“It’s okay to be weak sometimes, Emil,” Lloyd’s eyes looked sincere, but also sad. “There’s nothing wrong with having given in to weakness, as long as you keep trying and remember that it’ll never be too late to overcome it.”

“Lloyd…”

It was amazing to Emil, how Lloyd had a talent to bring out both, his worst and best emotions. Then again, he supposed, that was less due to Lloyd himself than because of what he represented to Emil.

“Alright, I’m gonna hit the hay now. I won’t tell you to go to sleep, but… Take care of yourself, Emil.”

“…Yeah. Good Night to you too, Lloyd.”

“See you tomorrow.”

All the things that he saw in Lloyd that often made him feel admiration or anger, at once also reminded Emil that to all these people, he was a person, just like them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand this is where the chapter size kind of starts to escalate. I haven't written the epilogue yet, but the full fic is somewhere between 120-130 pages in length total. Did I mention this was originally supposed to just be a lengthy one-shot? Ahahaha. I'm really not good at keeping stuff like this brief...
> 
> I took some freedom with the origins of Exspheres. Some of the stuff mentioned here is canon taken from guide books and optional conversations with Tabatha, but I filled in the gaps where necessary.
> 
> Writing Lloyd and Colette is fun. They're just such cuties.


	6. Playing Strengths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They only saw each other's strengths while trying to hide their own weaknesses.

When the others woke up the next morning Emil was already in the kitchen, having prepared a breakfast buffet of pancakes, scrambled eggs, various spreads, muffins topped with lovingly cut fruit and even a cake. The amount of food wasn’t the only reason why neither Colette nor Marta bought it when he claimed that he’d just gotten up ‘super early’. Colette was very familiar with the sort of awkward reasonings he gave, and Marta simply knew him too well. Lloyd, of course, knew the entire truth to begin with.

“Emil… You should’ve told me you couldn’t sleep,” Marta complained. “I wouldn’t have minded staying up a little longer with you.”

“I’m fine!” He smiled. “Let’s just enjoy breakfast together, okay?”

And that was the end of that. As much as it bugged Marta, Emil had already made it clear that he’d rather deal with everything on his own time. Forcing it onto him right now, when he’d put so much effort into giving everyone a good morning would just be mean. The group sat together and ate, Lloyd jokingly encouraging Colette to give nicknames to the cute dog-faces Emil had cut into the apples and pears on top of the fruit muffins, while she was going back and forth on whether to eat them or not. Marta insisted on serving Emil his portion, and though he initially agreed, he regretted it when he saw the ungodly amounts of nougat-spread she slathered onto his pancakes.

“Sugar gives you strength!” she insisted.

“In what universe!?” he asked.

He ate it, but not without sandwiching a new pancake on top of each before doing so and then downing half a pitcher of water. In the end the amount of food and the group’s unwillingness to let any of it go to waste were so great, it was noon by the time they finished ‘breakfast’. The leftovers they still had, they packed up for Lloyd and Colette to take along. The two of them were getting ready to resume their journey.

“I really wish you could stay a bit longer.” Marta looked a little sad. “The house is a lot livelier when there’s people over!”

“We had a lot of fun too!” Colette agreed. “Next time I hope Tenebie will join us! I’d love to say ‘Hi’ to him!”

“I guess the Centurions are pretty busy handling Mana these days,” Lloyd noted.

Emil, sounding a little guilty, confirmed that, “The Core I left with Richter doesn’t have much of a consciousness so… Without me around to guide everything, it takes them a lot of effort setting everything in place the way it needs to be.”

“Right… Well, I still hope everyone can take a day out of their schedule next week! It’d be great to have everyone in one place!”

Lloyd gave a wide grin, which only served to confuse Emil.

“Huh? Next week? Was there something next week?”

“Um, you know. The picnic? Wait, didn’t Zelos tell you? He promised he would!”

“Oh! _That_ …”

Right, he remembered. The date in the letter Zelos had given him was only 6 days away at this point, wasn’t it?

“Aw, seriously Emil, how could you forget? You can be such an airhead sometimes!” Marta scolded him.

“Ahaha… I guess it just slipped my mind, what with everything that’s happened.”

“Really…”

It wasn’t entirely true. He hadn’t just ‘forgotten’, he knew he’d been _trying_ to forget. The thought of setting foot onto the ancient Kharlan grounds, so close to the new Tree, made his stomach turn, but he knew how much Marta and everyone else were looking forward to it, so he decided to stay silent.

“Alright! See you guys next week, at the World Tree!”

“Yeah… See you there.”

Lloyd and Emil bid each other goodbye with a handshake, before the young man in red and his companion in white robes headed for Luin’s gates. The cheerful chatter that had fulfilled Emil and Marta’s house in the past hours was replaced by Marta’s idle humming for the rest of the day. 

“You’re in a good mood,” Emil pointed out.

“I just can’t wait for that picnic!” Marta smiled. “It’s gonna be so much fun hanging out with everyone! We should probably get to picking out some gifts to bring along for the others, right?”

“Mhm… You’re right.”

“Huh? Emil… You sound down.” Marta walked up to and sat down next to him. “Are you still worried about what happened yesterday?”

He shook his head. “No… It’s not that.”

“…You really should’ve slept a bit. Staying up all night can’t be good, even for you.”

She gently brushed some hair out of his face while telling him that, but Emil didn’t say anything. It troubled her, seeing him like this. There it was again, that distant stare in his eyes, like he wasn’t even present in this world to begin with. What was the use of him spending his life here with her if his mind just seemed to be drifting farther away day by day? Marta wouldn’t just idly stand by. Maybe he wasn’t ready to talk about his troubles yet, but the least she could do was remind him of what mattered in the here and now.

“Emil.” Marta rose from her seat, placing her hands flat on the table. “Go grab your bag.”

“Hm? Marta?”

She smiled at him, “We’re taking that trip to the Ginnungagap you’ve been talking about. After all that raving about how good Richter is at cards, I’m super curious to try playing against him myself!”

* * *

Rock. Paper. Scissors.

“Haha! I won again!”

He had no idea how Mithos kept doing this. A sort of clairvoyant ability of half-elves, maybe? But if that were what it was Yuan probably wouldn’t be nearly as terrible at this game, would he?

“Alright, 2 out of 3! That settles it then. You’re cooking instead of me today!”

“Ugh… Well, if that’s an order, please start praying for yourself and your friends. I really don’t know if I can make anything People can eat yet.”

“Huh? Why so insecure. That doesn’t suit you. Besides, you have been practicing a lot.”

“I’ve only tested the results on myself so far, though.”

“I’m sure it’s gonna be fine. If you like the taste, it will probably be fine for us all to eat as well.” Mithos sounded encouraging. “Okay, I’m off asking Kratos for an extra lesson!”

This was Mithos’ reason for summoning Ratatosk today: Letting the Spirit take over his kitchen duties so he could go and train his swordsmanship instead.

“You’ve spent a lot of time training recently, haven’t you?” Ratatosk pointed out.

Mithos, who had been about to leave, halted to answer, “It’s not like time is just going to wait for me. We’re running out. Sabotage won’t stall the war for much longer. I need to hurry and become stronger, strong enough to make a pact with Origin…”

“You’re already strong, Mithos,” said Ratatosk. “Very strong.”

“…Thanks for the flattery,” Mithos, after hesitation, laughed. “But we both know that’s all it is, right? Without the High Exsphere, I’d stand no chance against a Spirit of your caliber, let alone an army.”

“You won the battle against me,” Ratatosk argued.

“Oh, please. Did you really think I didn’t realize? You _let_ me win, Hazel.”

He knew. Of course, he knew. Having secrets before someone as perceptive as Mithos could never be easy.

“Mithos…”

“That’s why, should you ever decide that you didn’t want to honor our pact anymore, I wouldn’t mind,” Mithos explained, closing his eyes. “After all, I never _really_ proved myself worthy of your power, did I?”

Ratatosk shook his head, “I would never think that. I’ve accepted your Vow, and thus our contract is sealed. Besides, you _are_ worthy. You’ve more than proven that, Mithos.”

“…You’re kind. I wish I could just believe your words.”

“Do you want to fight me again?”

“No. I’m using the High Exsphere to fight now. I don’t think that would be fair,” he looked up. “But… One day, when I feel strong enough to do it of my own power, I’d like to take you up on that offer.”

Ratatosk smiled, “Alright. I’ll be looking forward to that.”

“Me too.”

Mithos went to train with Kratos after that conversation, and Yuan and Martel had gone to gather herbs and scout out the surrounding woods. Meanwhile, Ratatosk stayed behind carefully preparing the group’s dinner in his Summoner’s stead.

“You have grown quite attached to the boy.”

Even without turning, Ratatosk recognized the presence in the shade of the trees behind him.

“Hello to you as well, Tenebrae.”

“Lord Ratatosk. I find myself agreeing with the half-elf. Time is of the essence. Perhaps it is time to take action of our own, rather than indulging in… Whatever it is what you are doing?”

“Cooking. It’s called cooking,” Ratatosk said, visibly irritated by his Centurion’s impatience. “And don’t call him ‘half-elf’. His name is Mithos, and as he is currently my Summoner, you owe him a level of respect.”

“…Which brings us back to the issue of your attachment.”

“I see no such issue.”

“My Lord. I know these people are doing all they can to protect their world. I, too, am thankful for that. But you must feel the Tree’s life fading by now. And just now, Mithos gave you his verbal permission to dissolve your pact…”

“So? What do you expect me to do?”

“Mobilizing the monsters of this world, what Mithos intends to do could be accomplished many times faster, simply by scaring the two nations off from utilizing magitechnology any further… If necessary, using violence.”

Ratatosk turned to his servant, wide-eyed, “People would surely die if we did that!”

“But many more would survive,” Tenebrae argued. “More than if we allow for this war to destroy the Tree.”

“How callous…”

“Callous, or realistic? Lord Ratatosk, Mithos and his friends may not have noticed, but I have. Your strength is beginning to fail. As much as I sympathize with your care for them, I must urge you to not sacrifice the Tree’s- by which I mean, _your own_ life for their goals!” Tenebrae’s voice sounded as sincere as it rarely did. “If nothing else, at least remind yourself that, should you perish… Your friends will perish as well. All of us would.”

Ratatosk stopped stirring in the pot on the fire for a moment.

“It won’t come to that,” he said. “I… believe in Mithos. I believe in the path he has chosen to walk.”

“I want to believe in the boy as well,” Tenebrae assured him. “I, too, am fond of the the Yggdrasil siblings. Their convictions are truly admirable. But I have been speaking to Mithos’ sister and-“

“What? Is Martel doubting him and talking about him behind his back _again_?” Ratatosk couldn’t help sounding angry.

“I assure you, my Lord, Martel’s intention is not to spread gossip about her brother. But she knows him better than anyone does. Perhaps taking the time to deliberate on the matter with her would convince you to-“

The Spirit turned his back on Tenebrae, “…If I waste any more time talking, I’ll burn the food.”

“Lord Ratatosk…”

“Please, Tenebrae, just… leave. I don’t want to have to yell at you.”

“…Very well. I shall inform the other Centurions of your decision.”

The other Centurions… Had they all decided together to ask Ratatosk to break his alliance with Mithos? Maybe even together with Martel? What were the all thinking? Ratatosk couldn’t make heads or tails of it. As he went back to taking care of the pot he could feel Tenebrae slip away into the shadows.

When the group came back together to eat later that evening everyone was surprised to hear that Ratatosk had cooked in Mithos’ stead. Contrary to the earlier worries, the food was fine, good enough for none of Mithos’ party to voice any issues with it- and yet, it also earned Mithos himself a little scolding.

“Mithos, really… You shouldn’t summon a Spirit to dodge your chores,” said Martel. “It is just a bit disrespectful, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Don’t worry, sister, I didn’t order him too. We played Rock-Paper-Scissors over a favor, that’s it. After all, Hazel is our friend, too.”

Ratatosk nodded, “Yes. As long as my cooking is enough for you all, I don’t mind.”

“I really can’t believe Martel or Mithos didn’t cook this…” Yuan starred at his bowl. “The flavor makes me think it could have been either one of you!”

“If I recall, Mithos and Martel have been teaching him. So, it would only make sense for his cooking to taste similar,” Kratos explained.

And the Spirit nodded, “Ah, yes. I used Martel’s cooking as a model for the taste, actually.”

“In other words, it tastes like my sister’s cooking, but Yuan can’t tell it apart from mine,” Mithos teased.

Thus, Martel gasped, “Yuan! Is my cooking really so bland that you’d confuse it with Mithos’?”

“I-I never said that!” Yuan defended himself, his voice rising an octave.

Mithos, too, seemed shook, “W-Wait, sister, are you saying _my_ food is bland, too!?”

“Ah… Mithos…”

Before Martel could defend her own reasoning, a confused Ratatosk rejoined the conversation, “So, to sum it all up, what you are all _really_ saying is… That what _I_ made is bland.”

…Nobody could dispute what he said. Nobody even tried to in the ten seconds of awkward silence that followed around the campfire. It was at this point that Ratatosk resolved to find a way to improve his dishes’ taste – Even without the use of these accursed herbs and spices. He’d have a long time to do so. Spirits are immortal, and he’d go on living. Mithos’ oath and Ratatosk’s belief in it would make sure of that. And just to reaffirm that fact, he approached Martel after the meal.

“I can’t understand why you would want me to abandon your brother. I expected better of you, Martel.”

“Huh?”

“Tenebrae told me. You spoke to him, didn’t you?”

Martel’s eyes fluttered a little as she tried to recall whatever the Spirit might mean.

“Oh, no, you misunderstand. That was not what my conversation with Tenene was about.”

“Then what was it about?” Ratatosk asked, and quickly added, “Also, just between you and I, I don’t think he likes it when you call him that.”

Martel ignored the remark but answered the question, “Mithos has been pushing himself much too hard. If he were to fail at any point starting now, I’m afraid to think of how it would affect him.”

“So, you’d rather he gives up on his plans?”

“I’d rather he settles down and find another way to resolve the situation, than let himself fall to despair.”

“Even if that ‘other way’ involves letting the war claim even more casualties?”

“At this point I don’t think even Mithos believes such casualties can be avoided anymore,” Martel argued. “But, of course, you are not wrong. All the damage we can avoid, we should try to avoid. That is the least we owe to this wonderful, beautiful world.”

Ratatosk searched Martel’s eyes and found that her words were genuine. Her love for the planet was easy to see. What a bad judge of character Tenebrae was, Ratatosk thought to himself. As if Martel, this gentle person, would ever agree to using monsters to terrorize the people of the warring nations into docile submission.

“However, it shouldn’t all rest on Mithos’ shoulders,” Martel said.

“Mithos is strong,” argued Ratatosk. “His willpower wouldn’t fail him.”

Martel shook her head, “He is still a child. The fate of the world is much too heavy for him to carry.”

“Isn’t that why he has you all?”

“And yet, he has convinced himself that he needs to be a pillar to all of us,” Martel looked down. “To Kratos, for getting him exiled from his homeland. To Yuan, for forcing our goals and convictions on him. And… to me. For getting me banished from Heimdall alongside him. None of us blame Mithos for our fates. But I fear this is how he has come to view himself. Perhaps that sense of responsibility even extends towards you and the other Summon Spirits.”

“Mithos is no ‘pillar’ to me. As long as he fulfills his Vow, he owes me nothing.”

“But what if cannot do that?”

“…That again?” All this doubt was getting on Ratatosk’s nerves.

“I’m just speaking of a possibility,” Martel argued.

“Why is it so difficult for People to believe in certainties?”

“Perhaps… because our lives are uncertain,” Martel thought out loud. “Even we half-elves, long-lived as we are, could die at any moment, whether we’re prepared for it or not. That is a reality we have to live with.”

“In terms of being in danger of dying at any moment, I’m the same right now,” Ratatosk admitted. “But still, I’m not going to let fear tempt me into doubting my Summoner’s Vow.”

“By which you mean, ‘your friend’s promise’.”

“Yes.” Ratatosk looked straight at Martel. “If you want to believe in his weakness as a person, that is your pejorative. But I will believe in the strength of the one I entrusted the fate of the Kharlan Tree to.”

“Very well. Then I will ask you to keep doing just that. Who knows? It might be your belief that helps push Mithos across the hurdles we cannot help him overcome.”

“I will. And you promise me to not give Tenebrae anymore dumb ideas.”

“Huh? Dumb ideas? Ah… Of course. I will try not to…?”

“Good.”

Even in this cold, serious conversation, Ratatosk could still feel Martel’s warmth. She was genuinely concerned, not only for Mithos, but also for him. Why a mortal like her would ever be ‘concerned’ about a being as ancient as him he couldn’t quite understand, but he again attributed it to himself appearing as a child in her eyes. Maybe that was the reason why it was so difficult for him to not let her words worry him, in spite of all the valid counterarguments he had presented to her. Sometimes he found himself wondering if, if he’d been born as a Person, he would have had a mother like Martel, warm and nurturing, yet also full of worries and the wisdom needed to keep those around her safe and guarded, but he knew that that was all idle speculation. Martel held no authority over him, and though he valued her opinion, he trusted his own judgement enough to know that he was right, and she was not. That was all he needed to shake off whatever doubts she’d sown in him.

Next time, he’d have to make sure his cooking would taste less bland than hers.

* * *

Marta was amazing. She really always knew what to do to change his mood. That was certainly her intent with suggesting this trip. Usually she was likely to act jealous and clingy when Emil went to visit Richter, for which he couldn’t blame her. After the scare he’d given her at the final confrontation it would be weirder if she didn’t have any lingering fears that one day, he might not come back from the Ginnungagap. If anything, it was Emil’s responsibility to alleviate those anxieties. Taking Marta along on his visits from now on would be a great first step in doing so.

Through the Core on Richter’s forehead he and Emil had a bit of a connection. Not quite enough to hear each other’s voices, as was the case with Marta’s new jewel, but they could pass on vague messages to one another when there was a need to. Emil used that connection to let Richter know they were coming and received a feeling of approval in response. Therefore, Richter was prepared to receive the visit. What surprised him was the “plus-one” Emil brought alone.

“Marta Lualdi…!?”

“What’s with the full-name-treatment? I know a lot has happened and it’s been a while… But if you’re gonna be like that, I’ll be calling you ‘Mr. Abend’ too.”

“N… No. There’s no need for that…”

He was just shocked to see here, that was all. Emil explained everything to Richter, his new pact with Sheena and how Marta had benefited from it. Still, Richter seemed a little overwhelmed by the situation. Not only hadn’t he spoken to anyone other than Emil or the Centurions in a long time, this was his first time speaking to Marta in a non-hostile setting ever since the girl’s break with the Vanguard. Needless to say, there was a bit more awkward tension involved than any of them would have liked.

“I see… So, Marta and you have moved in together now,” Richter summarized.

Emil nodded, “Yeah, that’s most of the reason why I haven’t really had the time to stop by lately. I’m sorry for not letting you know earlier.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Richter.” Marta grumbled. “Weren’t you the one who told Emil to go live with me? That’s what he told me. Besides, you’ll get your turn rooming with him once I’m gone anyway!”

“Rooming… with him, huh?” Richter adjusted his glasses, baffled by Marta’s wording. “Anyway, if I were you, I’d be more careful with saying that sort of thing so carelessly.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because this talk of your limited lifespan is troubling Emil, obviously.”

“…Eh!?”

Only now that Richter mentioned it Marta noticed that Emil was, yes, despondently gazing off into the distance again, as he did so often as of late.

“I’m sorry, Emil! I didn’t mean to make this weird for you…”

“Huh? I… It’s alright. You’re human, that’s nothing you should be sorry for."

“No, Richter is right. I should really try to be more conscious of how these sorts of things make you feel. Especially after all that’s happened recently…”

Richter listened up at that part, “All that has happened recently?”

“Well, you see-“ Marta began, but Emil cut her off.

“It’s alright, Marta. I’ll explain.”

“Ah… Mhm. Okay.”

It was only fair. After all, she already did all the talking to Lloyd and Colette.

“Lately I’ve been having mood-swings again,” Emil admitted. “Not the same way I did when my mind was split in two, but still, they’re bad. It mostly happens when I end up thinking of anything that happened before I became ‘Emil’. One moment, I’m feeling okay and everything is fine, the next I get so angry or feel so hurt that I don’t want to talk to anyone. Then, when it’s over, I feel guilty and can’t help but dwell on how awful I’ve been. I’ve even wounded Sheena…”

“The Summoner?”

“It was when we first tried to make the pact. I suddenly felt so terrified of her that I went all out on her to protect myself, even though I was the one who’d asked her to go through the ceremony with me.”

Marta’s eyes widened, “So that’s what happened! You were scared…”

Emil looked ashamed when he nodded.

“Sheena wondered if that might have been something like a new ‘Ratatosk Mode’, but Marta didn’t think so, and honestly, I don’t either. ‘Scared’ and that side of me don’t really go together. But it still worries me. Lately the villagers around Luin have started to figure out what I am, and sometimes the way they look at Marta and me makes me so upset, I worried I might end up forgetting myself. And then, the other day, I snapped at Lloyd for talking about immortality and implying I didn’t know how bad Exspheres are.” Emil sighed. “Even if it’s not really ‘the return of Ratatosk Mode’. With all the damage it’s starting to cause, it might as well be.”

“…Tsk. ‘ _Ratatosk Mode_ ’? Really?” Richter scoffed a little. “Is that what they call it these days?”

“What do you mean?” Marta asked.

“It’s trauma,” Richter said. “Plain and simple. It’s been over 4000 years, but since he’s spent most of it asleep or without his memories, this is the first time Emil – that is to say, the Summon Spirit Ratatosk – has a chance to process the events of the Kharlan War.”

“But… I’m a Summon Spirit.” Emil sounded doubtful, even though he felt Richter’s claims resonate with him. “I’ve seen a lot of awful disasters and even wars in world history. Isn’t it weird that just one would suddenly affect me like that?”

“On the contrary, I think if it hadn’t affected you powerfully, you wouldn’t be here right now the way you are, as Emil. I have no doubts the events of that catastrophe were personal to you in a way none before were. It was this war that led to the loss of the Giant Kharlan Tree.” Richter glanced away. “Psychology may not be my field of expertise, but I have my personal experiences. When… When Aster lost his life, I felt paralyzed for quite a while. Even two years later, Aqua, who’d known me for a bit before that, would sometimes mention that my personality had changed, that I’d become more bold, less willing to listen to others’ reasonings, that I lost my temper more frequently and that I smiled less. Obviously, it wasn’t great enough of a detriment to convince her to stand up against my foolish ideas, but in retrospect, I can see she was correct. And that was after I had two years to process Aster’s death. Considering how recently he has regained his full memory, Emil has had even less than that.”

“So, you think to Ratatosk losing that Tree was like losing a loved one?” asked Marta.

“As its Spirit, he was a part of it and vice versa,” Richter replied.

“Emil…” Marta turned to look at the boy. “Is that what’s been hurting you?”

_No. That isn’t the whole story._

At the same time Emil started gritting his teeth and felt his body cramping up, Marta also saw Richter recoil a little with a headache. She would have asked what was going, hadn’t she just barely sensed it herself: A faint, radiating response from the jewel on her forehead. It felt like a warning of danger.

“…It’s no use,” Emil gasped. “I’m sorry, I really, _really_ wanted to finally try and talk about it, but every time I even think about doing that, something inside me just snaps shut, and I can’t pry it back open. I feel so pathetic…”

“You’re not,” Marta said. “I promised we’d take it on your time. Thank you so much for trying.”

“Well,” Richter sighed, sitting back up. “At least _now_ I know what those migraines were. Hah. Just when I was about to ask you to bring by some medicine for that next time.”

Emil took a step back, “Wait, so you ended up feeling all of that…? Richter, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t fall back into _that_ habit,” Richter warned him. “Meekness doesn’t befit a Summon Spirit.”

“No, this isn’t the same as back then. I’ve really been hurting you, haven’t I?”

“You are speaking to a man who was planning to set himself on fire for eternity. Among the pain of the Mana extracted from my body every day, those headaches are bearable. I need neither your apologies, nor your sympathy or guilt.”

“…Alright then.”

“Let’s see it like this,” Marta stepped in between the two. “The sooner Emil starts feeling better, the sooner the headaches Richter has been getting will stop as well! So, if Emil should do anything, it’s take care of himself, and let others help him do so too!”

“That’s a good thought,” said Richter. “But it isn’t always that easy. It can take a lot of time to heal from a deep wound.”

“Well, I don’t have that time! Marta is here _now_ , and if I waste all the years we have together feeling sorry for myself, they’ll never come back!”

It was his own echo hitting his ears after he was done saying that, that made Emil realize just how loud he’d gotten. He flinched at the sound, almost more than the other two did.

“…I’m snapping again, aren’t I?” he asked, mostly to not upset Richter with another apology.

“Emil,” Marta grabbed his hand. “Don’t hurt yourself for me. Please.”

She said that, but he could only wonder, why was it so difficult to just stop hurting?

“Hey… Richter?” Emil looked up. “It probably isn’t my place to ask, but… How long does it take until it stops being painful? Loss, I mean.”

Again, Richter looked away, “I don’t think you want my answer to that.”

That non-answer told him enough to make him feel like he was carrying a heavy rock in his stomach, for two reasons. Seeing the corresponding expression on Emil’s face, Richter wrinkled his forehead.

“Now _I’m_ doing it,” he sighed. “Listen, Emil. It’s true that I‘ll never be able to forgive the part of you that killed Aster. But I’m thankful for the friend I’ve found in the rest of you, as well as the companionship of the Centurions. Thanks all of you, the ‘eternal hell’ I planned to inflict on myself has become a lot more… _pleasant_ than I could have dared to imagine. Right now, the relief I feel because of that outweighs the pain of my loss. I think that is the point you have to reach: The point where you find the strength live in the present, while accepting the wounds of the past.”

“How long does it take to find that strength? …Is what I’d ask, but you probably can’t tell me the answer,” Emil said, and the look on Richter’s face told him that he was right.

“I think right now, all you can do is give yourself time to heal,” said the man. “However long that may take.”

Marta squeezed Emil’s hand, “However long it may take… When you get there, I’ll still be there, right by your side. I won’t just disappear.”

_Why did she… Why did she always have to go and make these promises, that made him so happy, and yet so very, very sad?_

They tried to spend the rest of the day in a more lighthearted manner. If anything, discussing the boys’ mental well-being had served as a great icebreaker between Marta and Richter, and now she finally had a chance to challenge him to that card game she’d been meaning to play. Soon, Emil and Richter were quite frightened by the realization of just how _into it_ Marta could get when playing Poker. Defying both the odds and Richter’s legendary poker-face for many rounds in a row, several Pairs, two Three-Of-A-Kinds, one Straight Flush and many, many uncalled bluffs later, Marta found herself rolling in a pile gels of all flavors, all the while Emil and Richter were barely left with enough candied funds to keep betting.

“ _Mommy and Daddy always loved to play this game with me~_ _♡_ “she swooned, claiming what would in all likelihood be one of the last pots of the day. Just what the hell kind of family were the Lualdis anyway!? It was the point when Marta started lamenting that they didn’t have any Palma Potion to make the whole experience more ‘authentic’, that Emil and Richter decided that it would probably be better to move on from the cards. It was high time for a few rounds of Checkers. Since it was a two-player game, Marta willingly dropped out of the first match.

“Huh. You’re both really going at each other’s pieces. You’ve barely started and each of you has already captured so many!”

“Checkers is an aggressive game,” Emil, an eager grin on his face and his eyes focused entirely on the board, explained. “Playing defensively won’t get you anywhere. You need to do whatever you can to get to the back of the board and force the opponent to move their backrow pieces, even if it means sacrificing your own pieces. It’s all about advancing, building your own power and thinning out the enemy forces until there’s nothing they can do to defend themselves.”

“Which is why we’re playing this game, and not Chess,” Richter tugged on his glasses. “When it comes to defensive moves, Emil’s ability to strategize could really need some work. Catching an entirely unguarded King while all his pieces are focused on aiding his Queen’s rampage across my side of the board honestly got boring after a few games.”

Marta laughed, “Describing his style like that really takes me back.”

And Emil started blushing, “I can’t help it! When I see an opening, I wanna take it.”

“Well, I guess that’s just what happens when your ‘Queen’ can’t cast First Aid!”

“Gah… Marta!”

Laughter and harmless embarrassment. It was nice to spend time together like that. It was a great way of bonding not only through their shared painful memories, but much more through joy and little anecdotes from their day-to-day experience. This was it, the life Emil wanted to live. He really hoped that soon he’d be at the point where most days could be just like that, spent enjoying the presence of the people around him.

“It feels like it’s probably getting dark on the surface by now,” Emil eventually said. “We should get ready to go home.”

“What? But I was just about to get him to take off those glasses!” They’d been playing Teetotum, and Richter and Emil, having run out of edibles to bet, had started placing their equipment and accessories in the pot instead to satisfy Marta’s demands to continue. “I want to know if he actually _does_ have bad eyesight, or if he just wears them to look more handsome!”

Richter blinked, “That… was a question you asked yourself.”

“Well, duh! Ever since back in the Vanguard!”

“I… see.”

He seemed stunned, in the most incredulous of ways.

Meanwhile, Emil had a question of his own, “Marta… Do you find men with glasses attractive?”

“Hm, how do I put it… Glasses give off this sort of mature, world-wise vibe! When someone wears glasses, I always feel a lot more inclined to think that they definitely know what they’re talking about!”

“I see…”

Richter raised a brow, “Emil?”

For a moment, Emil had that look on his face, as if he were currently conducting a heated internal debate against himself. Then, quite out of nowhere, he lunged and snatched Richter’s glasses right from his nose.

“ _Wha- What are you doing!?_ ”

The glasses were quickly relocated, finding a new home on Emil’s much-too-small nose, in midst of his much-too-round face.

“S-So? How do I look…!?” he asked with the voice of a naughty child who was very aware that he’d just been caught in the act of stealing from the cookie-jar.

Marta’s smile was awkward, “Actually, that just looks… desperate.”

“Oh…”

Emil blushed. Well, that could have gone better. Now he’d sacrificed his dignity _and_ had a headache.

“…Once you two are done being teenagers, _can I have my property back?_ ”

Just as Emil needed to squint to see anything through the glasses’ heavy lenses, Richter was now squinting trying to differentiate the colored smudges in his field of vision he knew had to be Marta and Emil. At very least one question asked tonight had thus been answered decisively.

Emil and Marta left soon after, once they had found safe places to put the books and snacks they had brought for Richter, and Emil had checked on the Otherworldly Gate, to make sure the flame-seal made of Richter’s Mana was holding for now.

“Alright. Looks like everything’s in order. Marta, let’s go! I’m gonna open the room so we can pass through.”

“Ah, yeah! Let me just pack up my Gels real quick!”

While Emil was heading for the room’s main door, Marta picked up what she hadn’t stored away yet of the day’s winnings, then folded up the blanket they had been playing on. During that procedure, Richter approached her.

“Marta.”

“Hm? Yes?”

“I didn’t want to mention it in front of Emil, but that jewel-“

“Oh, that?” she brushed her bangs aside to show it better. “Don’t worry about it. I think it looks kind of cute, especially now that I don’t need to hide it anymore! Plus, being able to use Healing Artes again is pretty convenient.”

“It might be a good idea to start hiding it again.”

“Huh?”

Richter began to explain, “Even if nobody is aiming for Ratatosk anymore, a gemstone that size could easily be mistaken for an Exsphere, and even I know how it is becoming increasingly harder to get your hands on one of those stones…”

“…Because the King of Tethe’alla and Lloyd are rounding up all the ones they can find,” Marta ended the thought.

“Exactly. While you probably don’t need to worry about Lloyd, flashing this jewel in public might still get you arrested or robbed by agents of the Black Market.”

“I can defend myself. Especially now.”

“But is that something you really want to put Emil through?” Richter asked. “Seeing you being attacked repeatedly because you hold a part of his power once again? Only that this time, he knows that he is the cause?”

“…That…”

“And, what’s more than that, Ratatosk’s central powers being broken up into this many pieces is, as far as I know, unprecedented. I don’t doubt that you and that Summoner had good intentions, but I am sure right now even Emil himself isn’t aware what he can and can’t do with what little power currently still remains with him.”

“That was the point, though. We tried to reduce his power, because he was so afraid he might hurt someone again,” Marta explained.

“I understand. But should the time come to fight again he might end up overestimating himself. As one who holds part of his power, protecting that power is also your responsibility. And if Emil finds himself overwhelmed in a dangerous situation, it may end up being you who has to protect him.”

“What do you mean ‘may’? _Of course_ , I’ll protect him! I’d never hesitate with doing that for a moment.”

“You misunderstand. I don’t mean protecting him as his partner in battle. I mean _having_ _to_ protect him, because he finds himself too weak to protect the both of you – or even just himself.”

Marta laid a hand on her chest. Was it really this bad? Even when he was the cowardly Emil, Marta had always perceived him as incredibly strong, more than capable of taking on several skilled enemies at once. Could having split off so much of his own power really have left him so weakened that he might get himself into serious danger? Possibly while trying to help her protect herself?

“Summon Spirits don’t die. The worst that can happen to them is to be shattered and dispersed into the winds. But we both know how being reduced to Core form affected Ratatosk the last time it happened.”

“…Yeah. You’re right.” Marta nodded and lowered her head. “I wouldn’t want to put him through that again. He’s got enough to deal with as it is.”

“I think we can agree on that, yes.”

Emil’s voice rang out from behind them, “Marta, are you ready? The barrier should let us pass now!”

“I’m coming, Emil! Just a moment!” She hastily stuffed the blanket into her bag, wasting the effort she had put into folding it. Meanwhile, Richter decided to say one last thing to her.

“Marta. The person Emil is now is the result of a lot of very powerful, but also very recent events forming and changing the core of Ratatosk’s personality. Maybe this is just the pessimist in me speaking… But as quickly as he has found that new sense of self, he may also lose it again. So, if the current Emil, _our_ Emil really is precious to you…”

“I know. I’ll protect him.”

Emil rejoined the two of them to say goodbye to Richter a few seconds later. Marta and Richter were sure that their conversation had been private, but in a sense, it hadn’t been. Emil was aware that they had spoken, and though he’d refrained from listening in, he couldn’t ignore that almost certain feeling that the conversation had been about him. What else would it have been about? He was the whole reason they’d come here today. These visits were meant to alleviate Richter’s loneliness, but Marta had used it to soothe Emil’s anxieties, and she’d succeeded. For most of the day, he’d felt great, just happy to be there and to share the time given to them with people he loved. But therein laid the issue: The time given to them.

Marta was amazing. She always knew how to read his emotions and what to do to cheer him up. Her smile was as motivational as it was radiant, her warmth reminded him of reality whenever he felt as if he was slipping far away, and he knew she’d do anything to keep him safe, from others, from his fears and even from himself. But he hated putting all that responsibility onto her shoulders every single day. As much as she was there for him, he wanted to be there for her, but recently he hadn’t felt as if that had been the case. And what’s more, this time with Marta, beautiful and soothing as it was, wouldn’t last forever. One day, when this life came to an end, she would be gone, and he would still be there. He’d have to continue existing in this world, without her smile and her warmth to anchor him to this world. If that time came and he hadn’t overcome that ‘trauma’ Richter spoke of without her support by then… He didn’t even want to imagine what that would do to him. He couldn’t.

He knew that the truth was that Marta couldn’t protect him. Even if she wanted to. But he couldn’t let her know that. So, when they got home that night, he pretended that he was feeling better. He pretended that his mood had improved, that he had all forgotten about ever being worried, and that he wanted to do nothing but joke around for hours and then fall asleep in her arms.

But he didn’t really sleep that night because if did, he would definitely have another nightmare. He just knew he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually researched Poker for this chapter because I've never really played it myself before.   
> By the way, the "Palma Potion" is simply called "Palmacosta Wine" in the Japanese version of the game, which probably would have made my reference to it a lot funnier here. Curse you, localization. 
> 
> I have a minor headcanon that Martel Yggdrasil sometimes pretended to be bad with names when she really wasn't just to have an excuse to come up with silly nicknames for people without sacrificing her maturity. It just seems "right".


	7. Symbolic Persons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A person is defined by the connections they forge and the resonance of the symbols drawn by these lines.

It’s painful. He died, but he’s alive. He wasted away to nothing, but there he is, tethered to this world and saved by a person who didn’t really save him at all. Not in the way that person had promised to. He tries to not resent that person for it. He is his friend after all.

Right now, he still wants to believe that his sudden willingness to doubt his friend was caused by his own weakness, not his strength.

“Mithos…” His Mana is so low, it takes Ratatosk effort to speak. “When you go to see Origin… take this with you.”

Gathering whatever Mana he can in his finger, he burns a golden crest into one of the buttons on Mithos’ robes.

“What is this?” Mithos asks.

“An ancient magic… from the world I came from… The Derris Emblem,” he explains. “If you let Origin use this symbol to tie your soul into the surrounding space and time, it will become a charm that will use the Mana around you and anyone you share it with to fashion an armor from the darkest depths of your hearts. Whatever weaknesses you may have will instead be used to protect you, from spells, from enemies and, if you wish so, from yourself…”

“Why… Why are you giving this to me? This wasn’t part of our pact.”

“No, it is. Because… you’re the only hope there still is…” Ratatosk grits his teeth and bears the pain of maintaining his physical form to finish his explanation. “…When the comet Derris-Kharlan passes over this world in twenty years, you _need_ to be there. Use the Emblem to break the elves’ protection on their former home and guide its Mana into the Great Seed, so it can germinate, and the Tree can be reborn. Until then, you and this world need to survive. Please, Mithos. I beg on you. Ful…Fulfill your Vow.”

Mithos folds his hands over the emblem on his chest. “…Of course, I will.”

Another promise waiting to be broken.

In short distance he can see Mithos’ sister casting her worried gaze upon the scene.

* * *

He wished he’d stayed awake. He’d functioned perfectly fine without sleep these past five days, but eventually Marta had found him out. Her insistence that he couldn’t keep ‘pushing himself’ like this had quickly won out against the couple of arguments and excuses he had managed to come up with. So, rather than spending the night doing anything useful, he once again found himself drenched in his own sweat and tears, trying to drown out the echoes of the scenes still lingering in his head. Even the fact that Marta was sleeping peacefully right next to him and that he could feel her warmth on his skin did not give him enough comfort to make the experience worth it. If only he hadn’t listened to her. She was trying to help, but she didn’t understand.

At the core of it all laid the fact that she was human, and he wasn’t.

The next thing on the agenda would be to survive the day without any incidents. Marta had already worried enough for his sake. If he refused to go to the picnic, she’d pick up on the way he was feeling and worry even more. Yes. The picnic. At the World Tree, the holy grounds of Kharlan. That was today. That’s what he stood in the kitchen for, baking muffins, making rice and soups, cutting vegetables-

* * *

“You are digging the knife in too deep,” said Martel. “Here let me show you.”

She laid her hands on top of his.

* * *

“- _Ah!_ ”

His knife slipped and metal met skin. He shrieked. Marta dropped what she had been doing and came rushing over.

“Emil! You cut yourself again!” she took his hand and checked the wound, which was bloodless as always.

“I can heal it,” he said.

But Marta kept frowning. “This is the third time today already…”

“…Ha ha. Yeah. I guess I’m being pretty clumsy.”

“Alright, out with it. How much sleep did you _really_ get?”

“What do you mean? I went to bed before you and got up after you, right?”

“That doesn’t mean you couldn’t have been awake!”

Why did she have to be so good at reading him?

“You worry too much. …If you really want to know, I guess I’m a bit nervous about going to the Kharlan Grounds. The World Tree is there, after all.”

Again, there it was, that sad, concerned look on Marta’s face. “We don’t have to go if it bothers you that much, you know…”

But Emil smiled at her. “No, it’s alright. I want to meet up with Lloyd and the others too! Besides, we can’t just let all this food go to waste, right?”

He couldn’t convince Marta that he was doing fine, but he at least managed to quell her immediate worries. The last thing he wanted was to ruin her day by making her stay home with him. She went back to wrapping up the presents they’d gotten for everyone, and he continued working on the lunchboxes. Even with all his apprehension, he hadn’t been lying when he said that he was looking forward to seeing their friends. As unsteady as his hand was today, he still tried to put all the love and care into the preparation that he could. He knew how much everyone liked it when he paid attention to the presentation, using Nori and black Sesame to draw smiles onto the rice balls, decorating the greens with edible flower petals to make them look like a meadow, carving faces into the vegetables and sausages-

* * *

“Hazel, you made that!? That’s so cute!”

The way Mithos had started to fawn over the lunch he’d prepared made Ratatosk blush.

“I was just trying to make it a bit less… ‘bland’. I might’ve gotten carried away, though.”

“This is impressive. The rice balls and rice cakes look like the other Spirits and Centurions.” Martel pointed out, and immediately her brother began to guess.

“Hm, let’s see, the sugar-dusted one’s Lumen, that black sesame rice cake is definitely Tenebrae, and the white sesame is probably Solum! As for Spirits I can see Shadow, Maxwell, Aska and Luna… Oh, those three small sweet cherry rice balls are the Sylph, right? You used pickled cherry leaves for the wings.”

Mithos just kept going and going, while his companions took the time to look at the overly artful preparation of the dishes for themselves. Eventually, Yuan picked up a rice ball that was topped with ‘hair’ made of Nori.

“Why does Celsius look so… angry?” Yuan asked, examining the rice ball’s pouting expression.

“Because she’s angry,” answered Ratatosk. “Isn’t she always?”

“I think that might only be the case when she is around you or Efreet,” Martel mused.

Mithos laughed.

* * *

Emil opened his eyes and saw that he was holding a crushed rice ball in his hand, the ears made of carrot strips that he’d lovingly attached just seconds ago now sadly hanging off the smushed clump of food. Additionally, his other hand, balled to a fist, was currently resting in the salad he’d prepared a little while ago.

“Oh…”

A mixture of shame, disappointment and frustration overcame him. He quickly tried to clean up the mess he’d made before Marta could see but didn’t realize that she was already right behind him. She’d watched.

“Take a break, Emil,” she said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I think we’ve got enough food already. And if you really want that salad, I can make some. Just… lie down for a bit.”

“I’m not tired,” he said.

“It’s gonna be a long day. Having fun takes energy too. Go relax a little, alright?”

‘Relaxing’… That was fine. Relaxing didn’t mean having to close your eyes and watch whatever images come to your mind. Relaxing didn’t require him to think of anything either. He sat down on the sofa, realized that Marta hadn’t warped all of the gifts yet, and took over doing that.

“Emil, I said ‘relax’,” he heard Marta’s concerned voice call over.

“I think this is relaxing,” he called back, while slitting a ribbon into fine strands for decoration.

Marta sighed, but let him do his thing, and thus Emil proceeded to draw little dogfaces onto Colette’s parcel and fold an origami rose to stick onto Regal’s. Right, his friends. That was what he had to focus on. The great people he’d get to spend this day with. How happy they made him, how happy they looked whenever they were together. The things they’d talk about, the games they’d play, the fact they’d be all together -

* * *

“Is everyone together!?”

“Y-Yes… I think Yuan and Kratos are unconscious, but they are right here with me…”

“Good. I’ll go try again! Come, Spirits!”

“…Mithos!”

“Sister, if that cannon finishes charging, it’s all over!!”

Time hadn’t been kind with them. His first pact with Origin had failed, and even if that hadn’t been the case, how could they ever have anticipated that the ‘secret weapon’ the Tethe’allans had created to regain their lost territories from Sylverant would prove to be such a monstrous creation?

The planet’s great Spirits, sans their king, carried their Summoner high up into the air, where he would attempt to launch one last, desperate attack against ‘Thor’s Hammer’, the nightmare born of human foolishness, which had almost finished sucking the life of the Giant Tree dry. But their power was already failing. With so little Mana left unclaimed by the cannon, the Spirits and Mithos’ magic had become far too weak to make even a dent into the machine.

“MITHOS!”

He was bound to fail.

* * *

A ribbon got torn. Emil shook his head, tried to clear his thoughts. Then he grabbed another one. There was a little rip in the wrapping paper too, so he covered that up with a bit of duct-tape, and then decorated it to look like a sword with a marker.

“Alright… That’s Lloyd’s. Next is-“

“Actually, I think you’ve got all of them wrapped now,” said Marta.

“Oh… Right.”

“I’m done with the salad too. Let’s pack everything up, so we’re ready to go!”

“Yeah. I’ll go grab some bags.”

The food and gifts didn’t take long to pack up securely, leaving the young couple fresh out of chores and with nothing left to do other than chat with one another. Maybe, Emil thought, that is what he should have been doing all along, because once he was leading aimless small talk with Marta, his thoughts, for the first time that day, didn’t drift away on him. There were still random flashes of memory or associations coming to him, but with their conversation to anchor him in the present, it was a lot easier to not lose himself in the past. And yet…

“Honestly, though… I haven’t really seen you struggling with a kitchen knife like that before, Emil. Are your hands shaky?” As she asked this, Marta took his right hand and felt it.

Emil sighed, “I just can’t concentrate well lately… You know how I’ve been.”

“…I guess I shouldn’t be asking. Sorry I keep pushing you.”

“No, you’re just trying to take care of me. But… yeah. Let’s not talk about that.”

Marta nodded. “…Anyway! Cooking! I looked over everything you made when I added the salad earlier, and y’know? I was pretty intimidated!”

“Intimidated?”

“Well, yeah! I mean, you seriously went out of your way to make dumplings with everyone’s faces on them!”

“Um, it seemed like a fun idea.”

“And you made their weapons from chocolate sticks!”

“Yeah, Lloyd looked kind of lonely without anything left and right of him…”

“You glued one of those cheap models they sell to tourists onto the bowl for the soup, so it looks like Luin on Lake Sinoa!”

“I always knew those things had to be good for something!”

“The broccoli looks like a flower field, the Risotto got veggies carved to look like the Triet Ruins on top… How’s my salad even going to measure up to that, huh!”

“I-I’m sorry…?”

“…*sniff* It’s okay. I forgive you.”

Sometimes he really couldn’t tell whether Marta was teasing him or not. Once she’d taken a moment to breathe, her expression turned gentler.

“Whenever you do anything for anyone, you always put all your effort and all your heart into it. You always do the best you can do, Emil. I seriously admire that about you.”

Emil blushed a little, “I mean, I ought to do what I can do. Since I don’t always necessarily have the skills to ‘just’ do it.”

“Hm?”

“I mean, I don’t like anything that tastes bitter, very spicy or just has a strong smell, so I keep using the same couple spices I actually like in everything I cook over and over. Recently, I… I’ve been thinking that to other people, my food probably tastes pretty bland because of that. So, I guess getting carried away with the presentation is my way of making up for that.”

“Huh? Bland?” Marta looked surprised. “Where did you get that idea? I don’t think your food is bland at all!”

“…Really?”

“Of course! Even if you don’t use that many herbs or spices, you put so much effort into selecting all the other ingredients, there’s no way it could come out tasting like nothing. And, besides… How could anybody be unhappy with what you make with all you’re doing?”

“Doing what?”

“Every time you cook for anyone, you always keep checking and asking if they’re okay with the dishes and how they’d like it prepared, _especially_ when it comes to seasoning. That’s something you’ve been doing ever since we first met, even the times when you were in Ratatosk Mode! I’ve even sometimes seen you put your portion aside before seasoning the food for us, so you could have it less spicy just for yourself. Haven’t you noticed that that’s what you’re doing?”

“…No, I guess you’re right. I _do_ do stuff like that,” Emil admitted. “I just haven’t really paid attention to how it makes a difference before…”

“See, that’s what I mean when I say that you always do the best you can for everyone around you. It probably comes so natural to you, that you don’t even realize it. But I do.” Marta smiled. “So again, I don’t know who it was, but tell whoever called your food ‘bland’ that they’ve got no idea what they’re talking about! Because the only way your food could ever taste bad to anyone is if they didn’t listen when you asked them how they wanted it!”

Though she didn’t understand, whenever Marta was trying to help, she knew exactly what to say. Emil couldn’t help but appreciate how sincere she sounded and how riled up she got about a person she couldn’t even be sure actually existed calling his food ‘bland’. The thought made him smile, then laugh a little.

“What’s so funny, Emil?” Marta asked.

“Nothing,” he said, looking at her. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am that you, out of everyone in the world, found me, and that you’re here with me right now.”

“…!” Marta turned a little red. “E-Emil…!”

Once he’d processed what he’d said and why Marta reacted to it the way she did, Emil found himself backing off a little. He blushed.

“Uh, um! I guess I made this awkward, huh? Haha… Sorry.”

“No… No at all,” she shook her head. “It actually sounded really, really romantic. I wouldn’t mind if you said stuff like that more often!”

“Ahahaha… Hah…”

How was he even supposed to answer that? Maybe he had a talent for being corny on accident… But saying stuff like that on _purpose_? He’d need a lot more Zelos in him before he could ever handle that.

And talking of Zelos, the primary reason Marta didn’t get to badger him to whisper even more ‘sweet nothings’ into her ear after that, was that it didn’t take ten minutes after that point for the two of them to hear a knock on their door. Just as announced in the invitation, Zelos, Sheena and Regal had come to pick them up, their Rheairds parked by the couple’s front door.

“I’ll bite the bullet and ride on the back of Zelos’ Rheaird from here on,” Sheena said, just when Zelos was about to make his own proposal on how to split the load. “That way Emil and Marta can have a Rheaird for themselves.”

“Yes, that would seem to be the most reasonable approach,” Regal agreed.

In the background, Zelos briefly pouted about being denied even the possibility of joking about flirting with Marta on the ride…. But on the other hand, _now_ he could make jokes about how Sheena would be squeezing up against his back! In fact, he got right to doing so, mostly because being violently punched by Sheena while on firm ground is infinitely less hazardous than being punched by Sheena while piloting an aerial vehicle. Be responsible with how you use the force of your Comic Relief powers. Such is the way of Zelos Wilder.

The rest of the group didn’t bother themselves too much with the optional background skit that was ‘ _Sheena Beats Up Zelos Part We-Stopped-Counting_ ’. Instead, Regal’s and Emil’s attention was on Marta, who eyed the Rheaird Sheena had just lent them as a cat would eye a vat full of water.

“Rheairds…” she groaned.

“Your motion sickness, huh?” Emil said, but quickly amended. “Wait, you were scared of heights too, weren’t you?”

“I brought some of my company’s medicine in anticipation of Marta condition, but I’m afraid it won’t do much regarding her Acrophobia,” Regal admitted.

“It’s okay,” Marta said. “I just don’t like flying… But I’ll be fine!”

She immediately grabbed Emil’s hand and squeezed it so hard that he was sure she was currently going through all the possible ways they could die while airborne in her head. Her smile looked fake enough for his suspicion to be true. Well, if anything, this was a good chance for him to be a supportive boyfriend. He kept holding her hands when they boarded the Rheaird.

“Don’t worry, Marta,” he whispered. “I know you’re scared, but I’m here. I’ll be up there with you the whole time.”

He was planning to hold to that. This relationship wasn’t supposed to be a one-way-street, and if calming Marta’s anxieties about flying was a way for him to repay her for doing her best to calm all of his fears lately, then there was nothing he’d rather do. Especially because talking to her seemed so often like the only thing capable of taking his mind off his own memories. Even on a Rheaird a journey halfway across the globe could take a while. It was more than enough time to have your thoughts drift off and lose yourself in reminiscence, but Emil kept himself alert by chatting with Marta. Talking about the places they passed over and trying to spot shapes in the clouds, they both distracted one another from their individual worries and when they arrived, they were surprised by how quickly time had gone by. Maybe this would be a nice day after all, Emil thought. Maybe if he just kept himself grounded in the present and who he was now, to the people right there with him, he could keep himself from falling back into the past. But their destination was the Kharlan Grounds, and there was barely any place in the world as steeped in the past as that forest.

They arrived. Immediately Emil and Marta found themselves swarmed by members of Lloyd’s group, especially those they hadn’t met in a while.

“Whoa! Emil, Marta! Long time no see!”

Genis acted like the excited little kid he always denied being when he ran up to greet his friends. Presea showed a lot more decorum. When Genis was already halfway through demanding a fist-bump from Emil and showing him how to do it, she caught up with him and said hello to Emil and Marta, mustering her most sincere smile.

“I really am looking forward to eating together with everyone. I am sure it will be a lot of fun.”

“Hey, that reminds me, you guys brought some food too, right?” Genis’ peeked at the bag Emil was holding. “Awesome! Your lunchboxes are always fun to even just look at!”

Emil nodded, “We kind of thought everyone was supposed to bring something.”

“No, not everyone. Regal, Zelos, Sheena, Lloyd and I brought some stuff. Colette helped Lloyd, so I guess it includes her, but Presea said she wasn’t confident enough in her cooking… aaand I actively sabotaged my sister to make sure she wouldn’t bring anything. Just a heads-up, if she asks you if there really is a breed of flame monster near Triet that incinerates anything that smells of Hot Sauce out of natural instinct, just say ‘yes’.”

“Um… Okay. Will do.”

For the sake of all their health, doing as he said was probably for the best.

Lloyd and Colette quickly joined, cheerily declaring how glad they were that Emil and Marta had made it. The next person to greet them was Raine.

“I trust you two have kept on top of your studies?” was the first thing she asked.

“Does, um, studying diplomatic relations count?” Marta replied.

“And I’ve been rediscovering all of world history! After that, there’s really not that much more I _could_ learn, right?” Emil took a preemptive step back, and he was wise to do so.

Raine was not pleased. There would be consequences. Textbook-shaped consequences followed up by a guaranteed pop quiz every single time she ran into either of them from now on, a promise that struck fear into Emil and Marta’s hearts. Lloyd expressed his sympathies to them.

“She got me just before you two got here,” he groaned. “Because of some overdue homework, I’ve now lost the right to sit down when we’re eating later. So that’s going to be fun.”

“Just for overdue homework?” Marta seemed shocked.

“Um…Well… 2 years overdue.”

“ _Oh_.”

Okay, that made a _bit_ more sense. Not nearly enough to not seem weird, but still.

They were still at the edge of the forest at this point. The actual picnic was set to take place a little further in. As Lloyd and his friends guided Emil and Marta through the woods to their destination, both of them couldn’t help but look all around, though for different reasons. Marta simply found the environment to be breathtakingly beautiful and mysterious, but to Emil there was so much more to it. Now that he was here as ‘himself’, his _entire_ self, visiting this place no longer felt like stepping onto holy earth demanding his respect, but like returning to the remains of a childhood home. When eventually his body tensed up it didn’t take long for Marta to take his hand and wrap her fingers around his tightly.

“Emil? It’s okay,” she said. “You don’t need to look at this place. You can look at me instead if you want.”

There she went again, doing all she could to soothe his emotions. Emil wasn’t sure if he could take her up on that offer, but it was nice to hear her say the words. Of course, the conversation drew the attention of others, and especially Lloyd couldn’t help his curiosity.

“That’s right… You used to live here, didn’t you? As Ratatosk, I mean.”

Emil needed to shake off some of his apprehension to talk, “Yes. This was where the old Tree stood as well. But I guess it really has been 4000 years. The kinds of plants and rocks are familiar, but everything looks so different, I don’t think I’d be able to find my way to where the Tree used to be if I tried.”

“It’s no wonder,” said Raine. “Most normal species of plants in this world don’t survive for more than a maximum of 2000 years, and even rocks can wither. For all intents and purposes, this is an entirely different forest from the one that used to be here 4000 years ago.”

“…I guess you’re right.”

Yes. The home of the person he used to be wasn’t here anymore. It hadn’t been for a long, long time. Maybe that was why Lloyd and his friends hadn’t hesitated to invite him here: Because they’d known that it would be good for him to realize just how distant the past, he had been grappling with really was. …Or maybe, the ones that organized this gathering just hadn’t thought through the implications when picking this location.

Actually, that was the far more likely possibility.

Eventually they arrived at a clearing where Emil found himself almost stumbling over his own two feet, surprised by what he saw. The place was decked out with picknick blankets and a small table with tableware and drinks, nothing fancy or special, just the bare minimums needed for everybody to sit down together and have a meal. That wasn’t what surprised him. Rather it was the sight of eight familiar figures already sitting on, lying on or hovering above the blankets, idly chatting with each other.

“The Centurions!” Marta was delighted. “They’re all here!”

Presea nodded, “Lloyd said he ran into each of them while traveling. He invited them to come and they all said yes.”

“That’s so great!”

The Centurions soon noticed the group’s arrival, and as soon as they did the eight of them interrupted whatever conversations they had going on and rushed to crowd around Emil.

“Lord Ratatosk~!”

“That form… It’s so cute…”

“My Lord, I am delighted to see you could make it. I hope our conduct thus far has pleased you?”

“I am _sss_ o happy you de _ccc_ ided not to eliminate People. You wouldn’t believe the t _hhh_ ings they u _sss_ e Lightning Mana for the _sss_ e day _sss_. Have you heard of an ‘Amu _sss_ ement Park’?”

Lumen, Solum, Ventus and Tonitrus one after another bombarded the boy with questions and pleas for affection. A little further in the back, one could hear Tenebrae snicker at the scene, all the while Aqua gave a disapproving scoff.

“Seriously, everyone… Can’t you see you’re overwhelming him? Give him some space.”

And next to her, Ignis sighed, “Every single time the Lord returns from an excursion… You all shame me to be a Centurion!”

It really was overwhelming to suddenly have all eight Centurions swarming around him, saying their welcomes, and swooning over his appearance. Emil spent a good ten minutes matching the faces of those demanding his attention with the names and personalities in his memory. As shocked as he was to see them all gathered here, in this forest, he still wanted to make sure to greet them all appropriately. A pat on Solum’s shell, allowing Ventus to bow to him, a firm handshake for Ignis, each one of them had their own preferred method of being told ‘Hello’, and with each greeting he gave, Emil felt a little less tense. Right, no matter how much time had passed, the Centurions were family. As much as he was their master, they were also his companions. There was no reason to be nervous around them.

“It’s been so, _so_ long since we were all together here like this!” A high-pitched chirping rung in Emil’s ears. This voice belonged to a petite Centurion with snow-white plumage, who fluttered through the air like a hummingbird on thin, gold-embroidered wings resembling a cape. Because she’d immediately started nuzzling up against his head, Emil had to pluck her out of his hair.

“Lumen,“ Emil recognized. The little Centurion tried to cuddle up against his chest. “Ah, wait, don’t do that! You’re tickling me-!”

He wasn’t especially surprised by her behavior, as he recalled she had always had a quite poor understanding of the concept ‘personal space’, but still, he couldn’t help casting nervous glances in Marta’s direction, half hoping that she wouldn’t blame him for the Centurion’s clingy behavior, half pleading that she’d decide to put a stop to it herself. He however, quickly realized the later wouldn’t happen: His dear girlfriend was far too busy smirking and chuckling at the scene. Apparently, she thought this was cute. Thus, Emil had to put matters into his own hands and found himself plucking Lumen yet again off his body and gently placing her on the ground.

“Eheheh… Glad to see you haven’t changed, Lumen,” he awkwardly laughed, petting her back. 

“Yes, it appears 4000 years of dormancy have done nothing to quell her overly excitable nature,” Tenebrae, who’d walked up next to Emil, muttered.

Lumen scowled at the other Centurion’s comment, blowing a raspberry at him.

“And you’re still a grouchy grump, _but_ you don’t scare me anymore! I heard everything from Aqua, you know! Now I know you’re _really_ a big, sweet softie, Tenebie!”

Tenebrae visibly cringed at that. “Wait. Where did you learn that name…?”

“Oh? Well, Miss Colette called you that! She’s so nice, you know, and she told me a lot on the way here! Is it true you got all sad because everybody thought a baby dragon was cuter than you? It’s true, right? _Tenebie~!_ ”

The expression Tenebrae wore combined with the sound he made that moment could only be described as ‘mortified exasperation’.

“I see… Colette couldn’t help leaving her eternal mark on world history yet again…!”

“Huh? World history? Well… I’m always glad to help!”, responded Colette, clearly not quite sure what he meant.

To that, Tenebrae groaned, “Will I never be freed of this disgraceful fate!?”

Emil, still petting Lumen, laughed, “Why the long face? Just accept it! You’re ‘Tenebie’ now. In fact, *ahem* I officially rechristen you-“

“Do not even joke about that,” Tenebrae interrupted him.

In the back, a Centurion whose crystalline body resembled a statue of a woman crafted from ice, Glacies, chuckled, “Tenebie… I like it. It suits you quite well.”

“I would prefer to believe that it does not…!” Tenebrae sounded very much defeated.

“Talking of nicknames, Lord Ratatosk got himself a new one, too!” Aqua exclaimed. Lumen’s reaction was swift.

“Ah, right, right, I heard too! Mister Lloyd and Miss Colette said it, it’s um… something really adorable…!”

“Emil,” Lloyd said. “We call him Emil.”

Lumen’s eyes lit up, “ _So cute~!_ ”

Emil himself compulsively took a step back, “I really don’t think it’s _that_ cute a name…!”

“Of course, it is!” Marta poked his cheek. “It is your name, and _you’re_ cute.”

“M-Marta!”

“Heheh! You’re even cuter when you’re flustered!”

Laughter erupted in the group of people and Centurions.

“Indeed, you are, Master.” Glacies nodded. “Especially with that face.”

“It appears the Lord has continued to accumulate aliases in our absence,” Ignis remarked, and Glacies turned to agree.

“Ah, yes, you’re right! I do recall the previous one was also quite quaint, was it not? Hm, what was it again…”

“Accumulate?” That question came from Raine. “Interesting. So Ratatosk has even more names than the ones we know him by?”

Marta tilted her head. “That would be the first I’ve heard of it."

“Oh, it is nothing most Humanoids would know of,” Ventus assured them. “It simply appears that as most Summoners seem to find Lord Ratatosk’s name difficult to pronounce, they tend to call him by a simpler, less formal moniker of their choosing.”

“Yeah, I do remember gathering a few nicknames way back,” Emil admitted. “I mean, my real name _is_ kind of hard to get right. Ha ha, I think I remember that a few Summoners even bungled their Vows the first time around because they tripped over my name! That was always kind of awkward.”

“Now that I think about it, even _you_ got it wrong a couple of times!” Marta exclaimed. “Right? Back, when you couldn’t remember anything!”

“That he did,” Tenebrae chuckled.

Emil recoiled a bit. “D-Did you have to remind me!”

Alright, now this was getting a bit _too_ awkward. Especially with all the Centurions and his friends around him visibly trying to hold back their laughter at that revelation. As glad as he was that they were enjoying themselves, did it really have to be over something so embarrassing?

That moment a little further in the back the sound of ice striking ice rung out. Glacies had clapped her hands together.

“ _Ah_ , now I remember!” she said loudly. “Hazel! The Master’s last nickname was ‘ _Hazel_ ’!”

-It hit like lightning, froze his entire body to ice, veiled his hearing and vision in silent darkness and left him unable to breathe or even move.

That word.

_That name._

Nobody around had had the chance yet to notice how Emil’s smile had fallen, how wide open his eyes were or how his skin was starting to look a few shades paler. They were occupied with chatting about what Glacies had told them.

“Hazel! Oh, that’s so cute!” Colette said that.

“Yeah, and hazelnuts are his favorite, so it makes sense!” replied Marta’s voice.

“If so, the name was probably given by someone who knew him quite well.” That was Regal.

“Yeah, I wonder what kind of Summoner it was.” And that Sheena.

He could make out enough of their conversation to tell who was speaking, but everything was muted, everything felt dull. From somewhere far in the back of his mind, he could feel a cold draft penetrating that veil that had long become far too unreliable as a partition. The voices from behind the veil, they were taunting him. Calling him by _that_ name.

_He didn’t want to hear it anymore._

“Emil?” Marta’s hand, on his shoulder. “Is everything okay? You look… pale.”

He couldn’t respond right away, but her voice allowed him to anchor himself in the present. A few deep breaths, in and out. Then, he nodded.

“…Yeah, I’m fine,” he told her, standing up straight. “I just felt… dizzy for a moment there.”

Had Emil however been alert enough to pay attention to the others right now, he’d have noticed the sharp, knowing look that Lloyd was giving him that moment. He wasn’t the only ones who seemed to have at least an idea what had set Emil off. Both, Tenebrae and Zelos, suddenly began making a huge ado about how long they’d all been standing around in the same place and talking, Tenebrae remarking that the humans among them must be starting to feel claustrophobic in the crowd and Zelos complaining about how they were letting all this delicious-looking food go to waste. It only took a bit of experience with their characters to see that they were trying to abort the previous conversation as thoroughly as possible, and so, eventually, Lloyd went along with it.

“Alright. Let’s eat.”

Everyone who knew him could easily have commented on the lack of enthusiasm in Lloyd’s words. The fact that nobody did revealed that all his friends already knew the reason for his dull reply, because they most likely had already noticed what Lloyd had noticed. Still, they all stayed quiet about it and decided to just enjoy the occasion for Emil’s sake, just as he had decided to pretend nothing was wrong for theirs. The only ones truly oblivious to the circumstances were six out of eight Centurions. 

Soon, the food was placed on the table and the picknick blankets were filled with people and creatures of the elements. Feasting and eager chats began. In one corner of the clearing, Ventus could be found bowing to the humans before him.

“Lord Lloyd, Lady Colette, I humbly thank you for the invitation.”

Colette shook her head, “Oh, oh no! We’re glad you could come! It was so lucky we met you! And at the Stone Dais, of all places!”

Lloyd, shoveling food into his bowl, had a remark of his own, “Just… maybe don’t get so close to Asgard next time? No offense, but the people there are still kind of on guard because of the Windmaster incident.”

“Ah yes, my most shameful conduct... Perhaps I should allow the townspeople to strike me down just once, so I may atone for my sins.”

“Please don’t do that!”

“ _That_ would just cause a panic. How about you just don’t go there again?”

“Hm, hm… I see…”

On another blanket, Aqua shuffled close to Marta.

“So, Marta, I heard you beat Master Richter at cards…”

“That look… You wanna challenge me, Aqua?”

“Of course! Somebody’s gotta take back all the snacks you robbed him of! You ought to have been cheating, and I’ll prove it!”

“Cheating!? No way, he just sucked!”

“How dare you say that! Little brat! You, me, cards, _right now_!”

“Oh, it’s _on_!”

And while Marta’s and Aqua’s card battle of the ages commenced, a little further to the right, one could see Raine poking the large, rocky shell surrounding the body of Centurion Solum.

“These inclusions…! This cocoon must be made of equal parts microgranular quartz, chalcedony, and crystalized Mana! I assume it can rearrange itself to accommodate for whatever form your shapeshifting body may take! Ohhh, if only I could peak inside and see your true form underneath…!”

“P-Please, ‘mam… Don’t touch me like that… Ah! _N-No, don’t pry my shell opeeeeen!!_ ”

Genis sighed, “Raine… If you keep going like that, she’s gonna summon a bunch of earth-elementals on us.”

“ _I… ungh… just… gah... want to see…!!_ ”

_“AHHH! NOOOOOOOO!”_

This scene was, in turns, observed by Zelos, Sheena and Tenebrae over on another blanket.

“Oho! Raine, joining the proud ranks of the Peeping Toms? Who would’ve ever thought!” Tenebrae joked.

Sheena waved her hand, “Don’t put Raine on the same level as Zelos.”

“What-! Sheena, you wound me! Peeping is just the poor man’s satisfaction. Now, peeping _without_ getting caught, _that’s_ an art! -ACK.”

A punch, right to the face. Sheena sighed, shaking her fist loose.

“Still, it’s kind of hard to believe that this cute little thing is what let Decus turn into Lloyd like that…”

“Solum’s specialty is to use Earth Mana to conjure tangible illusions. She commonly uses that power to protect herself and her monsters from enemies,” Tenebrae explained. “Also, I would like to ask you to not mention Decus’ or Brute’s actions while in her Core’s possession to Solum. As you can imagine, knowing that her powers were used to cause harm has already affected her deeply.”

“Hm… A con artist who doesn’t like hurting people. Now that’s a contradiction if I’ve ever heard one,” Zelos mused.

This conversation continued for a while, with Sheena and Zelos arguing over whether or not Solum could actually be called a ‘con artist’, a phrasing of Zelos’ that Sheena found uncomfortably specific. Elsewhere, Regal and Presea were conversing with Tonitrus and Ignis.

“ _Sss_ o… Your company u _sss_ e _sss_ Lightning Mana for even more purpo _sss_ e _sss_ than the ‘Amu _sss_ ement Park’?”

“That is correct.”

“Purpo _sss_ e _sss_ of war?”

“…I am not surprised you would ask. But I assure you, whatever weapon production the Lezareno Company once had I’ve worked to suspend indefinitely,” Regal sighed. “We do not wish to repeat the mistakes of the ancient war.”

“Hmm… That is commendable foresight,” said Ignis. “Especially for a human.”

Regal shook his head, “I am simply acting on the knowledge and experiences I was able to acquire after joining the others on their journey, that is all. To the contrary, I believe it would be foolish to not try and prevent such events after having seen their consequences firsthand.”

“A lot of people lived their lives in pain because this world was without a Mana-bearing Tree for so long,” said Presea. “Regal and I believe we can use the Lezareno C”ompany to make this world a better place to live in for everyone alive now, but we wouldn’t do so at the risk of everything all of us helped Lloyd fight for. That’s why I think… That we’re all on the same side.”

“The same side?” Ignis asked.

“The side that wishes to maintain this world’s current state and the new order found in it for the sake of everyone, humans, elves, half-elves, spirits and their familiars,” Regal explained.

“I see. Then let us hope many of your kind share these sentiments. It would certainly make all our work easier.”

“Without doubt.”

The laidback chatter and discussions continued everywhere around. Emil, who’d taken a little distance from the crowd to give himself a chance to fully calm down, sat in the grass and looked over the scene. Humans and half-elves, carefreely fooling around with the Centurions in this forest. It felt so nostalgic…

“Lord Emil? Are you not going to join the others in their meal?”

“Oh… Tenebrae.”

Emil hadn’t even realized that the Centurion had broken away from group to join him instead. Of course, sneaking had always been Tenebrae’s forte. Emil stretched himself a little.

“I’m not really feeling hungry. I’ll get my share once everyone else has had some. Besides, I felt like just… watching for a while.”

He turned his attention back to the Centurions mingling with his other friends.

“…I assume you’d forgotten how lively they can all be?”

“No… I mean, yeah, that too. But it’s not _just_ that,” Emil sighed. “Seeing all of you together in one place like this… It just really drives home that all those memories I have now really _are_ real. They’re... all me. No matter how long ago that ‘me’ existed.”

Tenebrae nodded, overlooking the scene alongside his master, “It really has been a long time.”

“Yeah…”

For a few minutes, Emil and Tenebrae just watched the others in contemplative silently, but that didn’t last long. Eventually Lumen joined the two of them, demanding Emil’s attention again.

“Tenebie, no fair, you always sneak off to have the Lord all to yourself!”

“I beg your pardon? What I am doing is acting as an advisor. It comes with the field of being his most trusted Centurion.”

“Ahh! That’s not true! Right, Lord Ratatosk…? You don’t like petting Tenebie better than petting me, right?”

“Um, well-“

“Before you answer this, could you please contain the spread of this _ridiculous_ nickname of mine!?”

Maybe Emil should have prepared himself a bowl of food when everyone else did after all. Now that the odd weight in his stomach had dissolved enough for him to feel a sense of appetite, a group of Centurions had gathered that he couldn’t just pry himself away from. Not only were there Lumen continuing to demand his affections and Tenebrae dispensing increasingly bitter-sounding snark at said demands, they were soon joined by Glacies and her scolding voice.

“We have barely awoken, and the two of you are right back to fighting for our Master’s attention? Really now. Do you not know how childish you two must appear to Lord Ratatosk’s human guests?”

Tenebrae pulled his attention away from Lumen, “One would assume so, but you would be surprised how many times on our recent journey, Lord Ratatosk’s friends have referred to me as, and I quote, an ‘old man’.”

“ _Grumpy_ old man,” Lumen whispered, and earning herself a scoff from Tenebrae.

Glacies seemed amused, “Oh, is that so? Ha ha. Human perception never fails to puzzle me. What simple minds they have, unable to comprehend the scope of the world.”

“…Humans really aren’t that different from elves, or from us for that matter,” Emil argued, sounding irritated.

“Oh? Oh my, Lord Ratatosk, could it be that I have offended you?” Glacies paused, before making an expression as if something had just clicked in her mind, “Ah, come to think! Did we not have this conversation before?”

“Huh? We did…?”

“Yes, before our hibernation, over 4000 years ago. I believe it was after I had voiced concerns regarding the conduct of Mith…”

Glacies trailed off when, just behind her Master’s back, she saw Tenebrae using his tail to wildly gesture at her, urging her to stop talking. ‘ _Ix-nay on the Ithos-may!_ ’ his scowl and body language told her loud and clear. She understood and fell silent, much to the confusion of Emil and Lumen, the later of whim laid curled up in the former’s lap.

“Glacies?” Emil asked.

“…Ahahaha!” Her laughter sounded a little fake, but not enough for her Lord to pick up on it after such a long time of not having met her face to face. “Anyway, I am glad to see your fondness of humanoids restored. Even I must admit, it was always quite cute to watch you play with them!”

“Um… Yeah. I’m glad, too,” Emil nodded, but not without quietly thinking to himself _‘She looks the most human out of all of them, so why does she- Well. I guess I made her that way.’_

It was still weird to realize those sorts of things.

Lumen chirped in, “I’m very, very fond of Miss Colette and the others too!”

“…You really like Colette, huh?” laughed Emil, with only a hint of awkwardness.

“I am quite afraid of the resulting synergy should those two ever be left alone in a room.” Tenebrae was blunt as ever.

Lumen blew another raspberry at him but didn’t respond beyond that. Having come to rest for what must’ve been the first time today, a peaceful Lumen whispered, “She reminds me so, so much of Lady Luna. Every time Lady Luna and Lord Aska would come visit the Tree, she would sing for him and us all. Remember?”

Emil, Glacies and Tenebrae all fell silent at the mention of the Tree. It was a melancholic thing to think about, not only for the Tree’s former spirit.

“I wonder, now that we’re all awake again, will Lady Luna come and sing with me again?”

“You could ask her that yourself,” another voice joined the conversation. One of the human party guests had come over to join Emil’s group.

“Sheena,” he looked up at her.

Her attention, however, was on the jet-black Centurion, “Seriously, Tenebrae, what’s the big idea, sneaking off and leaving me alone with that Idiot Chosen! Do you know hard it is to carry a one on one conversation with the guy without it turning into a hurricane of dirty jokes and pick-up lines?”

“I assure you, the issue is located solely within your unique dynamic,” Tenebrae smirked.

“Wait, did you just ditch Zelos too?” Emil asked, feeling slightly sorry for the guy.

Sheena sighed, “No, he went off explaining what a ‘Chosen’ is to Ventus together with Colette. Some of your Centurions really aren’t filled in on what’s been happening when the worlds were separated at all yet, Emil!”

“Ah… Yeah, I guess so,” Emil lowered his head. “I probably should have explained things a bit better before I left the Ginnungagap.”

“It’s okay, it’s all okay!” Lumen petted his hand. “We Centurions are smart. We can figure out what to do! Even if the world has been a bit weird for a little while…” She turned her attention over to Sheena. “But, hm~? Miss Summoner? What were you saying about Lady Luna?”

“Ah, yeah, that’s why I came over here,” Sheena said. “Listen, I was talking to the others, and since the Centurions are all here, some of us were thinking, it probably would only be fair to invite the other Summon Spirits as well. I mean, they helped us out a lot on the Journey of Regeneration.”

“The other Summon Spirits…?” Emil repeated. It came out slower and more hesitant than he would have liked it to.

“Sheena, are you confident in your ability to summon all the greater Spirits at once?” Tenebrae asked. “I seem to recall that human Summoners tend to be limited in their ability to manipulate the Mana needed to conjure Summon Spirits into taking their physical form.”

“I’ll be fine!” she insisted. His doubts seemed to both offend but also worry her. “We’re not in a battle, so it shouldn’t be as exhausting… Besides, when will we ever get the chance to have everyone in one place like this again?”

“I concur,” Glacies smiled and nodded, “Personally, I have been dying for a chance to reunite with Lady Celsius. It has been a while since our last encounter.”

“I would like to see Lady Luna!” Lumen cheered. “I want to sing with her~!”

“Alright! One round of summoning it is!” Sheena began to take a pose. “It might get a little crowded here if I do this… But we can cross that bridge when we get there!”

“When you say ‘all Summon Spirit’… Does that include the Spirit Martel?”

Emil didn’t mean to ask that out loud. It slipped. Now he couldn’t take it back. To make it worse, he hadn’t even whispered, he’d spoken loudly enough for Sheena to interrupt her incantation and look at him. He just knew she could see the apprehension on his face.

“So, Lloyd was right,” Sheena mumbled. “Martel really would be an issue…”

“Huh?”

“Ah, don’t worry! Anyway, I don’t have a summoning pact with Martel, so I couldn’t summon her if I tried! That’s that.”

“But even if you can’t summon her… this is _her_ forest.” Emil glanced aside. Something then occurred to him, “Actually, come to think of it, why _isn’t_ she here? If you wanted to invite everyone that helped on the Journey of Regeneration, wouldn’t the ‘Goddess’ who let the World Tree be reborn be on the list too?”

Now that the cogs had started turning, they wouldn’t just stop. Before he knew it, Emil was glaring at the Summoner before him. Nervously, she took a step back.

“Sheena!” he called out.

Finally, she sighed, “Look, Emil. We didn’t want to make this awkward for you. Zelos already told us that you had reservations about coming to this forest, and then there was that other stuff. We had to have the reunion here because the Tree needs our affection to grow, but… we all agreed that seeing Martel or Yuan probably wouldn’t be good for you right now, when you’ve got so much going on.”

Emil’s eyes were wide open, “So, you excluded them!? Just so I wouldn’t be upset?”

“No, of course we didn’t!”

“Well, I don’t see them anywhere here!”

“They _were_ here! We met up with them earlier today. It’s just that they both agreed that-“

“That what? That I’m gonna make a scene if I get anywhere close to the other Spirit of the Tree!? Did you think _that_ was what was gonna happen!?”

“Well, you’re kind of making a scene right now!”

Sheena’s words cut and Emil stopped. Like pulled out of a trance, he took a look around himself and had to realize that his yelling had drawn the attention of everyone present. Even Lumen and Glacies had cautiously floated a meter away from him, lowering their heads in humility along with most the other Centurions. What’s more, nobody, neither humanoids nor Centurions, looked surprised by this outburst of his temper. Rather, they seemed… saddened.

_‘Ah. So that’s how they see me,’_ he ended up thinking. _‘But that makes sense because it’s how I actually acted. I just ruined their day, didn’t I…?’_

“Emil…” Marta put down the hand of cards she’d been playing. “Are you okay?”

No. No, he wasn’t.

This had been a bad idea. For a while there he’d felt good about this, he’d actually thought that it felt nice to be back here on familiar earth and have all these people who liked him around, both from the present and past, but now he knew for sure that he should have said ‘no’ to this invitation from the start. It was too much. This forest, the memory of the Tree, the Centurions, all these people who trusted him but not enough to not worry about how awful he could be if left unchecked, the idea of meeting the other Spirits, meeting Martel-

_Martel_.

* * *

Derris-Kharlan was estimated to arrive twenty years after the Tree’s death.

But Martel died only twenty days after it withered.

At the time he was weak. Most Centurions had lost their strength and reverted to Core form when the Tree died. The Mana Seed that Ratatosk had managed to bear under great strain before the Tree’s power faded away entirely didn’t produce enough Mana to keep all of the world’s creatures and Spirits alive while also sustaining the Centurions. Only Tenebrae, who he trusted most, was kept in his wakeful state to help protect Mithos’ group from monster attacks. It wouldn’t be much, but at least they could try to do what they could to shield the ‘Great Seed’, as the people had come to call it in reverence.

Mithos united these people. He had not been strong enough to prevent the Mana Cannon from being launched, but the power of his High Exsphere had sufficed to redirect the blast and destroy every remaining weapon on the battlefield in a single shot. Upon seeing the power he wielded, the people fell down before him on their knees and pleaded for mercy. In the end, after all failed efforts to resolve the conflict peacefully, violent power and the fear of it appeared to be the only things People respected. Ratatosk sadly took note of that fact. Mithos’ kindness hadn’t changed a thing, but his anger in a moment of despair brought an end to hundreds of years of fighting. And yet, it was kindness that Mithos tried to cling to once the war was over, and the world was suffering, bereft of Mana. 

Once the world had been parted, Mithos approached both sides in equal measures. He told them that this crisis could be overcome if everyone worked together and remembered that this suffering, too, was just a journey they all had to take to find a ‘home’ they could build for themselves. He told them that soon Mana would come from the sky and provide them with the power to regenerate the world. But people were not ready to wait idly for salvation to come.

It was a person, a human whom Mithos had mistaken for a friend, who would end up leading the mob that would storm the place in the forest where the Great Seed laid hidden, attempting to take it for themselves. Mithos was using what power his Spirits still held to distribute the small amount of Mana the Seed produced evenly, but to these people it wasn’t enough. They wanted the Seed and all its Mana to themselves, even if it meant leaving the entire rest of the world to wither and die.

And so, they fought.

“Ghh-!”

“Yuan!”

“Don’t worry about me! Focus on our support!”

“Kratos, together! _Distortion Blade_!”

“ _Lightning Blade!_ ”

Over and over, Kratos and Mithos’ blades clashed and locked with the sword of the man who had betrayed them. Even though their bodies had achieved an altered state, become ‘angels’, as the people now called it, the sheer endless number reinforcements that kept pouring in made it difficult for them to defend their position. Even if the Spirits could maintain the barrier around the Great Seed for now, there was no telling how long it could last.

“Why!?” Mithos cried out to his opponent. “Didn’t we promise? Didn’t we give each other our word that we’d turn this world back into a peaceful place for everyone to live in, like it was meant to be?!”

“Tch! As if that sort of world ever existed to begin with!” The traitor laughed. “There is no future where all our kinds can survive, that has been proven sufficiently by now. So why, prey-tell would I ever give my honest word to _the_ _likes of you_? Foolish, dirty half-elves…”

These words alone were enough to make Mithos scream. Forgoing all finesse and technique, he charged at the man, aiming to thrust his sword right into the human’s body. Usually graceful and light on his feet, Mithos’ fighting figure now resembled a wild beast more than anything. And, as wild beasts tend to do, he focused on nothing but his prey. It was easy for the man’s allies to slip by him and fire their weapons directly at the barrier protecting the seed. Seeing the Spirits struggle, Martel switched the target of her support.

“I will not allow this! _Field Barrier!_ ”

She tried to strengthen the Spirits’ efforts. However, casting left her open for being targeted by the enemy’s weapons.

“NO! _Martel_!”

“Be careful!”

“Lady Martel!”

Yuan and several Spirits formed a wall to shield Martel from the hail of bullets, arrows and blades aiming for her exposed self, but their efforts would not last long. Yuan was soon brought to his knees, Luna, Aska and Maxwell took too much damage to maintain physical form and, finally, Tenebrae, who had tried to hide Martel away in a veil of darkness, was hit and reduced to Core form. Ratatosk barely had time to yell for his servant. With several Spirits struck down, the Barrier was weakened, and they had to work harder to maintain it. But how much longer could it possibly hold? Their last line of defense was Martel. Only Martel.

Ratatosk expected her to run, dive away and leave them to handle the attackers to the best of their abilities, but that wasn’t what happened. Instead, Martel began to cast again.

_“Greatest power of the land, swath us in thine protection…”_

“No, you mustn’t!” exclaimed Undine.

“RUN, YOU FOOL!” Ratatosk yelled.

There was never a possible version of these events where she would have run. That just wasn’t the kind of person Martel Yggdrasil was.

“ _Field Barrier!!_ ”

The last thing heard as the light of her spell enveloped the Great Seed was the sound of a crossbow’s arrow soaring through air heavy with gunpowder, Martel’s scream, Mithos desperately yelling his sister’s name… And then, the screams of the people whose blood he spilled in blind rage. Only few of them, among them the initial traitor, would manage to flee and survive that day.

_“I'll never forgive you... You humans are all the same!”_

The Spirits saw her die that day. Die, to protect them and the source of their Mana. Bleeding out on the ground, holding Mithos’ hand, his tears mixing with her blood. Right here, in the forest where the Giant Kharlan Tree once stood.

That day all vows were broken.

* * *

The images flowed into his mind, and like spilled water, now that they were out, he couldn’t bottle them again. Right, it was here. _It happened here._

“Emil?”

Marta’s voice barely reached him. She didn’t feel real right now. Nothing felt real, except for the images burning in his mind.

“I… I…”

He felt so out of place. Why did he come back to this forest, back to this _life_ , if there was nothing left here for him? Why did he ever have to be tied to these cursed grounds? He wasn’t talking, wasn’t moving, he just starred at them as his body shook. Genis was one of the first to take a step forward and try talking to him a little more.

“Hey, Emil, what’s wrong? Snap out of it!”

“He appears to be in shock,” Raine noted.

“This was a mistake… We should never have taken him here of all places,” Lloyd sighed. “But he didn’t have any bad reactions last time, when there were two sides of him, so I thought…”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t you go blaming yourself now, Lloyd!” Zelos went in-between. “You’re not responsible for predicting when a great, mighty Summon Spirits might end up having war flashbacks. And, let’s be honest, he’ll _have_ to get over it sooner or later. Who knows, this might be a good chance to take a first step?”

“Zelos, this is over the line!” Sheena scolded.

“Yeah! Emil says he’s not ready to talk yet!” Marta argued, but Zelos just shrugged.

“And maybe, he’ll never be. But the world’s not gonna wait around for him to _be_ ready. So…”

“… _Shuddup_.”

“Hm?”

Emil had muttered in response to Zelos’ speech, first quietly, then a little louder.

“I said stop.”

“Oho. Looks like someone’s waking up.”

“Marta’s right… I don’t want to talk about this. I… I don’t even want to remember it!”

“But that’s not really an option now, is it?”

“So, what! You think talking about what happened is going to ‘fix’ me!?” Emil glared up at Zelos. “You talk like it’s so easy to just ‘ _get over it_ ’, but you weren’t there! You have no idea what it’s like to-“

“What? To feel like you’ve spent a lifetime being used and like there’s nobody in the world you can trust?” Zelos glared right back. “Look, _kid_ , just because you’ve made a few more memories in life already than most of us, it doesn’t mean nobody here can relate to what you went through. That’s how it is with people. Life happens, we all go through things, and then, sometimes we need to rely on others who’ve gone through other things to remind us that things aren’t quite as bleak as they look.”

“He’s right!” Genis stepped forward. “Even if we weren’t there, we might actually have an idea of what’s troubling you. So, please, let us help! I… I just want to help this time!”

Emil stepped back. “T-That’s…”

“It’s just the same as last time, isn’t it?” Now Colette was the one speaking. “You’re scared and think you have to handle it all on your own, just like back at the Ginnungagap. I know what that’s like. Back on the Journey of Regeneration, I kept hiding things, over and over, because I didn’t want to be a burden… But then, Lloyd got angry at me for that, and he was right! There’s never a reason to bear it all alone.”

_Her Mana._ He could sense her Mana signature right now, and unlike usually, when he just ignored these sorts of perceptions, he found himself unable to dull his senses to it. It was far too immediate. Far too _familiar_. But… why? She was human. She was supposed to be human. So why did her Mana feel like-

“I told you before. You’ve had a whole bargain sale worth of crappy deals in your life already. I know that. We all do.”

… _Zelos, too_. Not quite as alarmingly as Colette’s, but the resemblance was there. How could it feel so much like… Ah. He understood. So that was what it meant to be ‘a Chosen’? In retrospect, they even kind of looked like _them_. And then, he couldn’t help but wonder… just what had _that boy_ been doing, all this time he was asleep?

“You said you were glad we called you our friend. So why don’t you let us treat you like it?”

“I…”

_Why did he have to put it like that? Looking like that, with that Mana?_

“If you think you have to be stronger than this because you’re a Summon Spirit, sorry to disappoint you, but that’s not how it works. You’re not that different from us.”

“Just…”

_Why did he have to say those things? Why couldn’t he just stop?_

“In the end, you’re still a person, same as the rest of-“

_“SHUT UP, MITHOS!”_

* * *

_“You’re a person, just as all of us.”_

The one who once told him that was right in front of him.

“I’ve already sealed away Origin. You are next,” he muttered. “Sorry. I can’t risk you going rogue because I’ve broken the pact.”

“Mithos… The Seed… You can’t-“

“You won’t ever touch it again,” Mithos drew his sword. “ _I won’t let you touch my sister!_ ”

“Do you even know what you’re saying!? Please, listen to me…!”

“Farewell, Ratatosk.”

“ _Mithos!!_ ”

…He managed to escape, just barely dragging himself across the dried-up roots of his tree, to the Ginnungagap. There, with the last of his power, he fashioned a curse, one that would make sure that the one wearing the Derris-Emblem would never be able to approach the Gate to the Demonic Realm. He never wanted to face Mithos and his lies again. In fact, he never wanted to see _any_ People, ever again.

…So, when the first thing he saw when he woke from his long sleep was a bright-eyed, blonde boy, telling him:

_“Humans and Half Elves are a very important part of this world!”_

What else could he have done, but destroy that useless memory?

* * *

Silence. Emil was vaguely aware that he’d just thrown a punch, but his fist never connected with Zelos’ face. The young man had been fast enough to catch the blow with his hand. Now they were staring at each other, and everyone else was, in turn, staring at the both of them. None of them even reprimanded Emil. They just kept looking on quietly.

“…Huh.” That was Zelos’ eventual reaction. “So that’s how the land lies. Color me barely surprised.”

“Emil…” Genis whispered.

But this wouldn’t stop. The memories just kept pouring, and Emil felt himself losing track of what was now and what had been then, what was real and what was false… Why the person called ‘Emil’ who existed right here, right now, had to deal with and feel any of this.

“I…”

“Emil. Talk to us, please,” he heard Marta say. “We just want to help.”

No. He couldn’t keep relying on Marta to do this for him. She couldn’t save him from this, not for forever, and he’d already dragged one innocent life too many down with himself into this pit of confusion and pain. It was enough. Just now, he’d really wanted to hurt Zelos… He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t risk hurting anyone. Not _them_.

“…I’m sorry.”

Emil didn’t even know what he was apologizing for, and usually, that would have made him think of how cross Richter would be at him for wasting his words, but right now there was no space in his mind for such worries. Everything was stuffed to the brim with images and conversations, among the sea of which he couldn’t tell truth from lie. He turned his back on the others and ran off into the forest, cutting down the first tree in his path to block the way and make it harder for them to follow him. In his back, he could hear them shout his names – two of them – but he ignored the calls.

If a ‘person’ was a being who inflicts their own pain onto friends and bystanders when in despair, then maybe it would have been better if he’d never been a person at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...WHEEW! That chapter was harder to get right than it had any right to be, mostly due to how many characters are involved. Writing dialogue becomes exponentially harder the more crowded a scene is, trust me. I had to restructure the events and move scenes around a few times. Unfortunately, some of my favorite dialogue I'd written ended up on the cutting room floor in the process.
> 
> Coming up with the Centurions' personalities for this was huge fun, especially Lumen. I was basically going for the polar opposite of Tenebrae, heh heh. I debated with myself for a while regarding whether or not to keep my idea with Tonitrus' "electric" verbal tick, but as he's not really got a lot of screen-time in this fic, I decided it wasn't getting in the way and to leave it in. Solum's personality is kiiind of based on Sana Futaba from Magia Record, a shy, earth-elemental Magical Girl who's powers are also connected to hiding, illusions... and torture. So I felt it was fitting, given what we do know about Solum's powers.
> 
> Updates are gonna slow here, because Chapter 9 isn't finished yet, but Chapter 8 pretty much concludes the main plot, the rest is mostly there for closure. So look forward to the next one!


	8. I Wanted To Tell You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He felt hatred, then grief, and then nothing at all.

Right. Of course. That was how it had all happened. How everything began and everything ended. The battle for the Tree, his hope to revive it, his opinion of humans and half-elves, his fateful, awful encounter with Richter Abend and Aster Laker.

It all began and ended here in this forest. It began with Mithos’ smile and ended with his scream upon witnessing Martel’s death.

_‘After that battle I felt like such a fool. I’d entrusted everything to Mithos. My power, my Tree, its Seed, the Derris-Emblem… But then, when I was at my weakest, he raised his blade against me. All his kind words, the time we shared and his promises, he didn’t find it necessary to honor any of them. I’d placed all my hopes and all my trust in him, but in the end, it had all been wasted. I… I never wanted to feel used like that ever again.’_

‘ _And that’s why you sealed me away. The kindness that Mithos had exploited, every part of us that had put faith in him, had even admired him… And the part that put worth in the lives of others above my own. The ‘weakness’ that had broken Mithos in the end would never break me. That’s what ‘I’ decided that day.’_

_‘Yes. I wanted to kill that part of myself. Even if it meant destroying my own heart, I wanted to erase you.’_

_‘But I didn’t die. Somewhere deep down in a dark corner of our heart, I survived. Because…’_

_‘…because in the end, we’re one and the same, and it weren’t ‘weakness’ and ‘strength’ that separated us, not even ‘kindness’ and ‘distrust’, but… ‘grief’ and ‘hatred’.’_

_‘Yes. That’s why we couldn’t accept each other inside ourself for so long. You couldn’t accept me, because you were much closer to our sleeping memory and felt its influence. And just like how I feared your anger, you feared my sadness.’_

_‘Hah. It’s less painful to be enraged than to be sorrowful… But you wouldn’t agree with that assessment, wouldn’t you?’_

_‘…It’s the same right now, isn’t it?’_

_‘Hm?’_

_‘That’s why we’re talking like this right now. We’re… afraid. We fear each other.’_

_‘…You’re probably right.’_

* * *

He didn’t know how long he’d been running before he slumped against a tree in his path and sat down in the grass underneath. Physically, he wasn’t tired, but his head hurt, his eyes burned, and he could barely make sense of his own thoughts. Why did he have to be this way? Why couldn’t this end already? This wasn’t what he’d come back to be with Marta for. He wanted to live out the other life he’d started, not get caught in the past again. These memories were so old, and everything had changed in the time he’d been gone. The world, the people, even the Spirits. So why did these feelings have to stay the same? What was the point?

…If he just sat there waiting for his throbbing head to get better, the others would catch up with him. He had to keep going, even if he didn’t know where to. So, still squinting from the pain, he hoisted himself up onto his unsteady legs, and tried walking forward – only to bump into something soft and covered in cloth.

“Ungh-!” He fell right back to the ground.

“Who… Wait. Y-You…!?”

-That voice. He knew that voice. Now more than ever. When Emil looked up at who he’d run into, he found a man with long, blue hair look down on him. Yuan Ka-Fai’s palm was resting snuggly on his face.

“Ah… I told them this wouldn’t work. Why did she have to insist-“

“Yuan…”

The man stopped mumbling to himself as soon as Emil addressed him. He lent the boy a hand, but Emil only took it hesitantly and as soon as he stood again, he took a step back away from Yuan.

“Hm… Yes, I suppose you wouldn’t be glad to see me. I was told you’d recovered your memory.”

Emil shook his head, “I don’t hold any grudge against you. You weren’t the one who…You…”

He trailed off. A thought had hit him, and now he couldn’t contain it. His hands balled to fists.

“Hm? Emil?”

“Yuan… Why are you here?”

The half-elf raised a brow, “Why I’m here? What a stupid question. You already know: I am guarding the World Tree.”

“No. I mean… How can you _stand_ being here?” Emil got louder. “You know what I mean, right? You of all people should remember! This is where it happened! _She_ died here!”

Rather than respond to these words, Yuan broke eye-contact.

“The last time we met, I thought you were just a stranger who happened to be talking for that Tree’s Summon Spirit. But I remember now what kind of meaning this place… _should_ have to you.”

“Whatever personal feelings I may have about this place have no bearing on my duties here,” Yuan stated coldly.

“But… I don’t understand!”

“And I don’t know what there is to understand.”

The conversation felt maddening to Emil, “If… If I saw Marta die like that, I know I’d _never_ be able to go back to the place where it happened!”

“…What?” Yuan looked almost disgusted. “I’d understand you saying something like this if I were speaking to a pure human. But someone with your lifespan…”

“This is different!” Emil insisted. “Before, I’d never even thought losing something or someone could feel like this… Until I met you all.”

Hearing this, Yuan sighed, “Then tell me, about this ‘idea’ of yours that you could just avoid the site of a tragedy forever. Would you still say this in 1000 years? Or in 10000? What if eventually every place in this world has become somewhere you’ve watched someone or something important to you perish? Where would you try to hide from your grief then?”

“I… I…” Emil shook himself out of his stutter. “I don’t want to hide from it! I just want to know… But I don’t know! I don’t know how to get past what happened back then!”

“So, this _is_ about what happened after Martel died.”

“…I should be angry with you. You didn’t stop him! But… I get it now. Now I understand that you must’ve been in pain after it happened, hurt too much to think about what you were doing or whether it was right or wrong.” Emil took a step forward. “But… You’re here now! The Great Seed germinated, there is a new Tree and you’re protecting it! So, obviously, you overcame it! How? How could you stop feeling… like this!?”

Something in Yuan’s expression wavered that moment. There was clearly something in Emil’s words he heavily disagreed with, but he chose not to address that point. Instead, he responded:

“There is no simple answer to what you’re asking. At least none that you’d like.”

That was the same thing Richter had told him, too.

“So, you expect me to just be strong…”

“Wrong. I don’t expect anything of you. After all that’s happened, I frankly think it’s a miracle we can even talk, without drawing our weapons on each other.”

“…But you think it’s pathetic that I can’t get over it, when you clearly did!”

“W-What’s it with these wild accusations! Stop putting words in my mouth!”

…This wasn’t going anywhere. He had to calm down, or he and Yuan would really start fighting, and that was the last thing he wanted. Emil took a deep breath.

“I just need a way to… put this behind me. I want to just go on with my life!”

“And I’m telling you, I don’t have the answer you’re looking for. Why are you so insistent on making this my problem! …Unless,” Yuan’s expression hardened “…Unless what you’re _really_ asking is for me to tell you the Tree’s name?”

“…Huh!?”

Yuan had taken a more defensive position. “Yes. I see. I understand that it might be a way for you to finally leave the loss of your own Tree in the past. But if what you want is to take back the Tree that has grown from your Seed, then I’ll stand in your way. I cannot allow you to usurp the Spirit Martel’s position!”

“Wait, no… That’s not…!”

No, that wasn’t it! It wasn’t just about the Tree or the Seed! …His head was hurting again.

“Argh!! M-Mithos…” Emil dug his fingers into his hair. “I… I was wrong. I was so wrong! If I could just talk to Mithos one more time…!”

“Forget it!” Now Yuan was almost yelling. “I already told you; I won’t let you see either Martel or the Tree!”

Hearing that, Emil rose his head. His eyes lit up, “…You’re saying that if I went to were Martel and the Tree are, I could meet Mithos?”

Yuan backed away, “Y-You didn’t know…!?”

No, Emil hadn’t known. He still really didn’t, but now he had an idea. One that meant that he had to get to the Tree right away. Even if Yuan should insist on being an obstacle.

From back further in the forest, they heard voices echo.

_“Emiiiil!”_

_“Lord Ratatosk!”_

_“Ratatosk!!”_

_“Emil, where are you!? Please, come back!”_

His friends, the Centurions, Marta… He even thought he recognized the voices of some of the other Summon Spirits. They were all looking for him, but… He couldn’t go back to them. Not yet. Not until he had settled this. In Emil’s path stood Yuan, determined to hold him back, but he had an advantage over the ancient half-elf: The fact that he had spent eons moving in tree-tops, and Yuan had not. Rather than engaging the man head-on, Emil simply leapt, grabbed onto a tree-branch-

“Wha-! How…!?”

-And disappeared into the forest’s canopy. Left behind was a dumbfounded and highly humiliated Yuan Ka-Fai, and that was how Lloyd and a handful of his friends found him when they caught up to where just a few seconds ago, the man had been talking to the blonde boy.

“Yuan! We thought we heard Emil’s voice over here! Did you see where he went?”

It would take Yuan a few moments to gather his bearings enough to explain to Lloyd how exactly he’d managed to let the individual in question escape.

Emil, on the other hand, needed a few minutes to orientate himself in the trees. Climbing to the top helped him locate a few clearings in the mass of green. From there, he simply had to seek out the spot where the most Mana-lines originated from. That would lead him to the Tree, and to the Spirit Martel. Maybe to Mithos.

…Of course. Of course, it would. He felt so foolish now for not realizing it before. The Spirit’s name was ‘Martel’, and she was the Spirit of the Tree born of the Mana Seed Mithos’ sister’s spirit had attached itself to after her death. Where else would he be, other than close to that Spirit? Why else would Yuan be here? It was so simple! He should’ve realized it before.

 _‘…But I’m scared,’_ he thought to himself. _‘I’m still scared of meeting Mithos. I’m still angry with him. I still want to cry when I think of him…’_

But then, he also thought to himself, _‘Hah. Really? I’ll let fear hold me back now? Not likely. Tell me, what was the line again?’_

That’s right. ‘ _Courage is the magic that turns dreams into reality_ ’. This time, the dream was to erase his nightmares, once and for all. He knew exactly which direction to head, and as he was the Spirit of a Mana-bearing Tree himself, any barriers set up by Yuan or Martel would not hold him. He hurried, making his way to the World Tree.

* * *

The dried up gras underneath his body hurts his skin. The Mana in the air is so thin, he feels like he is about to choke. That’s how it should be. Lying on the ground underneath the lifeless husk of his Tree, he waits to die, and for his anger to die with him.

But the moment won’t come. Though Thor’s Hammer has taken the last of the Giant Tree’s power and killed it, the Tree’s Spirit won’t fade.

 _‘Why am I still here?’_ he thinks to himself. _‘Why won’t I disappear?’_

He feels tears run down his cheeks. In reality, he already knows the answer. His role had never been only to guard his Tree. As long as Mana exists in this world his presence was required, and since he now had Summoner who’s life could sustain him, it made sense that he could survive the agony of having his tie to the Great Kharlan Tree severed for good.

He wishes it weren’t that way. If only he had died with his Tree. The pain is too much to bear, and there’s a hole inside him where the Tree used to be. Worse than losing a limb, tonight he’d lost an important part of himself and knew he’d never be whole again.

But it is here, in the rain, that Mithos finds him underneath the dead Tree, takes him into his arms and cries with him. Mithos’ tears, his empathy, they soothe the Spirit and make him, just for a moment, feel like maybe not all is lost yet. Like there are still things worth living for in this world.

Maybe, if he’d had the chance to cry for Mithos this way a little later, when their positions were reversed, things wouldn’t have had to turn out the way they did. He knows that it really wasn’t that simple. But it was a nice thought, that all pain, all grief and hatred and all fears, could just have been resolved if they’d spoken just one more time.

Right here, underneath the Giant Tree.

* * *

There was nothing ‘giant’ about it now.

It had grown since the last time he saw it, but compared to the Tree he remembered, the World Tree was still just a tiny sapling. Even so, he could feel powerful Mana flow from every twig and every leaf of this fragile, little thing. In its own way, it was beautiful.

“…Hello,” Emil bent down to softly touch one of the leaves. “We’ve met before. Remember? I hope you’ve been doing well.”

His voice sounds a little sad. Beautiful. But not his Tree. Not his forest, not the world he’d known, and that was all for the best. The past was supposed to be past. The sooner he could leave it behind, the sooner he could simply be himself, here, in this world, this life, in the present they’d all fought for together.

“I wonder if he really is here?” Emil stood up and looked around. “…Mithos…”

The clear waters of the mountain-spring surrounding the Tree touched Emil’s ankles as he stepped back into the center of the clearing. In the distance he could feel the presences of several half-elves, Yuan, Genis, Raine, but nothing quite like what he was looking for. It didn’t feel like Mithos really was here… At least not exactly. And yet, there was a familiar scent in the air that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Maybe it was because this Tree here had been born from his Mana Seed. But could that really explain this gentle aura he was feeling? It almost felt like the warmth of someone’s touch, though, maybe that were just his senses failing him. It had been a while since he had last used them properly. Emil was just about to take his eyes off the Tree and go investigate the surrounding woods a little, when a voice from behind him drew his attention.

“…I’d known that eventually you would come here. But who would have thought that it would be so soon?”

His senses told him that it was a Spirit, but none who’s Mana he recognized. Yet, it didn’t feel alien to him at all. If anything, the way this Mana felt was much, much too familiar. Emil turned around to face the person speaking to him – And froze in place when he saw _her_ face.

“M… Martel...”

What was this? How could this be? Were his eyes playing tricks on him? There she stood, Martel Yggdrasil, with that same kind smile she always wore, giving him her greetings.

“Hello, Ratatosk. I welcome and thank you for sharing your affections with this Tree which guards the lives of all who live on this planet.”

Emil couldn’t help but keep starring at her, "Are you really Martel?”

“Indeed,” she curtseyed politely. “I am Martel, Summon Spirit of this World Tree, and I’m glad that we are finally able to meet.”

Her words caused a cold shiver to travel through his body like a rippling wave, but, at least consciously, he didn’t know why that was.

“…Spirit of the Tree…? Wait, no… That isn’t right.” He took a step forward towards her. “Y…You’re Martel! Mithos’ sister, Martel. I remember now…You helped nurse Ratatosk- nurse me back to health when the Tree was dying. You… you taught me how to cook... And when you told me that you were worried about your brother, I got angry at you! …Don’t you remember?”

The woman standing before him shook her head, “The Martel you are talking about is only one of many souls living inside me. I was born of the prayers of the many Chosen who had sacrificed themselves to regenerate the world when it was split in two. In every way I am Martel Yggdrasil, I am also not her.”

“No… No, that can’t be true!” He felt his body trembling. Even though he could feel that the woman’s words matched reality, something inside him, something so powerful and vivid that he couldn’t possibly resist it, rejected everything she said. “You look exactly like her! You sound like her, too…” Just seeing her before him like that, it felt as if everything was drifting away, far, far into his memories. It made him feel dizzy, almost like falling asleep. “Hey… Hey, stop this already, okay? Just don’t… Don’t act like we haven’t met before! You know me, right? You remember me! And if you’re here, then… Maybe everything was just a bad dream? Was it all just a nightmare?”

He didn’t even know where all these thoughts were coming from, but yet, for some reason, he accepted them so much more readily than anything his senses were telling him. It was easy, all he needed to do was follow the feelings guiding him from within without question. He stepped closer to the woman, to Martel. There was a smile on his face now, but it looked anything but pure or true.

“Right? That’s how it has to be. It was all just a strange dream! Right… There is no way he wouldn’t have kept his promise. We’re still out there, waiting for Derris-Kharlan to arrive and… and then…”

By now pain had mixed into Martel’s expression. She tried to interrupt his aimless ramblings, “Ratatosk-“

“Please, call me by that nickname! I don’t mind! I like it, actually, I really do! Because… It really shows how well you all know me…”

“…Hazel…?” Martel hesitantly ‘corrected’ herself.

“Right!” Overjoyed, he took a step closer to her. “So, where’s Mithos? I’ve tried sensing him, but it didn’t feel like he was close by… Ah, I know! He’s been training to hide his presence, right? I should’ve known! He’s always been amazing when it comes to controlling his own Mana! Ahaha…”

His laughter sounded so empty, unsettling enough to compel Martel draw her staff and take a defensive stance. The odd, oppressively intoxicating aura she felt flowing from the older Spirit overwhelmed her. As they were both Spirits of the same nature, it was exceedingly easy for her to sense the state of the other’s being, and never in her young existence had the Spirit of the World Tree sensed anything that felt so deeply wrong. Perhaps it was the part of her that truly was Martel Yggdrasil warning her of the dangerous nature of the situation she found herself in.

“Hm…Martel? Is something wrong?” The Spirit Ratatosk asked when he saw her draw her weapon. “Where is Mithos? Why won’t you tell me?”

“Mithos…” Martel felt threatened, and it showed in her voice. “Mithos Yggdrasil… died.”

The smile on the other Spirit’s face fell, replaced by hollowness.

“That’s not true,” he said flatly. “Martel. Why are you telling lies? That doesn’t suit you.”

“…We truly are opposites,” Martel whispered.

“Hm?”

“While I was born of a seamless union of many souls… it seems your spirit has fractured beyond mending. First ruled by a fragment of hate, then of fear, then of kindness and courage, it appears a shard of the past now commands your soul… Yuan’s warnings held true. You no longer seem capable of anything but extremes. But I know you can and should not be blamed. It was Mithos Yggdrasil's influence that warped and corrupted you so. If only he and his friends had never met you.”

The other Spirit lowered his head sadly, “What an awful thing to say, Martel.”

“Please, awake!” Martel insisted. “I do not wish to harm you. If possible, I believe our peaceful coexistence would be for the benefit of all who dwell in this world.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t want to fight you either,” he told her in deceptive serenity. “I just want to talk to Mithos.”

“That want can no longer be fulfilled. Never, even in eternity…”

“Another lie.” He sounded disappointed.

Martel shook her head, “No. A reality you cannot see in your delusion.”

‘ _Delusion’_. That word set fire to his insides. The Spirit clenched his teeth and drew his weapon.

“Enough already!” he yelled “Take me to Mithos! I… I need to talk to him! He owes me that much!”

“I cannot do that!” Martel cried out. “As much as I wish to help you! It just isn’t possible!”

“LIAR!”

He sprinted at her and swung his blade. Their weapons clashed, their strengths pushing against one another. The blade-lock didn’t last nearly as long as it should have. Quickly, his power gave way against hers, and he was flung back, landing on the ground before her without any grace. Even Martel seemed surprised by this development.

“Your power… It is weak…!”

There was no response. Instead of listening to her, he got right back up and charged at her with a roar. Once again, their weapons locked.

“Stop!” Martel called while pushing against the other Spirit’s attack. “In this condition there is no telling what will happen to you if we fight!”

A few more strikes. None harmed Martel, but the other Spirit’s anger only grew.

“So, what!?” he finally responded to her. “Why would _you_ care about what happens to me!? If you’re Martel, the Martel I knew, then you’re a liar! But if you are who you say you are…” His eyes looked only the slightest bit clearer. “If everything up until now, this entire nightmare, was true, then… Then you’re a thief!”

“A thief…?”

He yelled at her through tears, “You said you’d protect my Seed, but you didn’t! You latched onto it, then you took the Tree, made it your own…! What else would I call that? Now that you’ve taken all I had, what’s there still left for me!?”

“Ah…” Martel slowly and sorrowfully lowered her head. “So, it really has come to this…”

Yes. It really was a problem. It was painful, unforgettable, this feeling that he would never be whole again… But it _still_ wasn’t the whole story. No, the true story began and ended with-

“ _Let me speak to Mithos, or I’ll tear you apart!_ ”

“Once more, I’ll ask you to cease!” answered Martel. “Please! Your words just now are proof that there is still some measure of awareness of reality left in you. You must calm yourself, for your own sake!”

Somewhere deep inside he knew that she was right. A part of him could feel that something was ‘off’, that his words and actions didn’t make sense and he ought to take a step back to sort apart the truths from the lies again, as he always did- But he was tired. Too tired to play this sorting game. He didn’t want to sort. He just wanted to finally, finally tell that person…

…What? What did he want to say again? Well… Maybe it didn’t actually matter what the words were.

He kept fighting, clashing weapons with the woman called ‘Martel’, over and over. She parried each and every of his attacks. In his delirium he didn’t realize just how slow he was, how weak his strikes were and how ineffectively he moved. Had Martel genuinely wanted to strike him down, he would have fallen a while ago, but as far as possible she limited herself to protecting herself. Eventually however, his persistence forced her hand. His strikes, as weak as they were, were causing damage to the surrounding area, the grass, the flowers, and also-

“Enough!” Martel exclaimed. “You will harm the Tree!”

Her voice didn’t even reach him. It really was as if he were in a dream. A long, long dream, that he didn’t know how to wake up from. And it began and ended with… Ah. What was it again?

How funny it was that even as his memory failed him, the feelings remained.

In the end, Martel couldn’t rely on defense alone any longer. Shey raised her staff and struck against the attacking Spirit, throwing him to the ground once again.

“UNGH-!”

“I am truly sorry that this is how things must be,” Martel said and looked down onto the pitiful soul. Then, she raised her staff and gathered her power. A magic circle appeared underneath her feet.

In this moment all should have ended. Even as the he got back on his feet, ready to continue fighting his futile battle, there should have been no way for him to withstand her next attack. In a few seconds, the rampage of his emotions should have been stopped, ended by one he could no longer recognize as anything other than a phantom the past and a shadow of the reality he failed to face.

But that moment, a voice cut through the air.

_“What… What are you doing to Emil!?”_

That voice was…

That girl with the white lilies in her hair, she came running from the dark of the forest and, without hesitation, rammed the bladed weapon on her wrist into Martel’s side. Her casting was interrupted, the magic circle was dispelled. But the girl with the white lilies wasn’t finished yet. Suddenly, it weren’t him and Martel fighting, but Martel and that girl. Their weapons clashing, over and over, their voices echoing through the air with each strike they suffered or parried. Martel’s and… that girl’s. Who was that girl again…?

Ah. That’s right. That was Marta, wasn’t it?

Why was Marta… here…?

Wait. Where was ‘here’ again?

Eventually, Marta somehow managed to pin the woman against a rock close to them. She knew it wouldn’t hold her long, but it was long enough to glare at her opponent.

“Who are you…?” Marta began to ask, but quickly changed her mind. “No, I don’t care. I… I won’t let you touch him!”

“Ungh…” The woman tried to free herself of the girl’s grip. “Wait… Listen to me-“

“ _You won’t hurt him_!”

He felt so confused. Why was Marta fighting that woman? Who was that woman again…? Ah, right. Martel.

Martel was the lady who gently led his hand so he wouldn’t hurt himself on accident. She gave advice, strictly but with kindness, protecting those in her care, both in body and in spirit. Whenever he was close to her and saw her smile, he wondered what it felt like to have a mother.

Marta was the girl who always stood by his side, holding his hand. She watched over him, just as he watched over her. When one got hurt, the other would tend to the wound. When one struggled, the other would come to their aid. It was her smile that made him realize what it meant to be ‘in love’.

Martel and Marta… They were both so, so important. Being around them had always made him feel safe. So why did it feel so strange and wrong to see them both together like this, in the same scene? One of them was present and the other was past… Right… The past and the present couldn’t exist at the same time. But which ‘time’ was right now? Was it past or present? When did he forget?

When did he lose track of which one of them was real…?

Marta and Martel continued to fight. The battle was heated, far fiercer than the one he had against Martel before. Unlike him, Marta had no trouble defending herself. It wasn’t her first time battling a Spirit, and Martel was young and lacked experience in controlling her own power. It was difficult to tell which of them was stronger. In terms of raw power, Martel was surely superior, but Marta was skilled. Power or skill… Eventually, one would win out. It was a matter of time, and they knew that. And so, both began to cast a spell.

And Emil, who was watching, began to understand what it was that bothered him so much about the scene. It wasn’t that the past and present couldn’t coexist. It was that Martel and Marta were fighting.

“Wait… Martel… Marta! No…”

They were fighting because of _him_. Fighting to protect the Tree….

The final words of the incantation to cast _Radiant Roar_ had just passed Marta’s lips, and Martel, too, seemed ready to unleash whatever spell she had prepared. They were about to attack each other. They were both going to hurt one another. Because of him.

What did it matter which of them was past and which was present? They were both here. They were both real… So were his memories. All the happy times he’d already spent with Marta and everyone, and the warmth he felt traveling with the Yggdrasil siblings, they were both real, just as both sides of him were real, and how both, his kindness and his hatred, both, his grief and his anger, were all real.

The memory of seeing Martel pierced by that arrow, too.

The memory of seeing that fake Marta being killed in the Ice Caverns, too.

That was why what he was seeing here, right now, was…

“No! _STOP!_ ”

…too much.

Two magic cycles were already glowing, two attacks were just about to be unleashed. Martel’s and Marta’s spells were moments from hitting their targets, but then…

Emil leapt in-between.

In that single, short second, there were a blinding light, a searing pain, Martel’s shriek and Marta’s scream.

“ _EMIL!_ ”

And then nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original version of this chapter was so long, I was debating with myself until literally the very last moment whether or not to split it up. In the end, I did. So yeah, this fic is now 10 Chapters+ an Epilogue long. Goodie.
> 
> Originally, this chapter was by far the longest in the fic and impossible to read in one sitting, but now it's on the shorter end. Thank god. Unfortunately, this means that following this chapter and the next one, chapters 10 and the Epilogue will probably be quite the challenge to get through. Stay strong, my readers.
> 
> I actually finished writing the epilogue earlier today. Though this fic ended up a lot longer than I'd planned on making it, I do feel pretty happy with it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it... Because that'd be a whole lot of enjoyment for you, right there.


	9. The Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the pieces of a puzzle don't need to fit together.

…

…

…

( _Somewhere far away, he can hear a familiar voice…_ )

…

_(It says something like ‘You never were one to think important decisions through, were you?’)_

…

_(And ‘It’s kind of like when we first met, right? It seemed like a good idea at the time, but really, you were just too weak to do it on your own.’)_

…

_(‘Actually… You were still too weak to stop it, even with others to support you. Then again, perhaps that was because you’d chosen the wrong company, hm?’)_

…

_(‘But these people are different. They’re not like me. They are a good opportunity to try and start over, if that’s what you want to do.’)_

…

_(‘Give it a chance if you want to. Maybe you won’t regret it… No. You probably won’t. He… Lloyd tends to be right about these sorts of things.’)_

…

_(‘This new world really is nice. Isn’t it?’)_

…

…

…

* * *

……………

_-….ease! W…ke…p!! …il!!-_

A voice…

_-E…il! …lease!-_

Marta.

He started to feel his body again. His legs, his hands, the rhythm of his breathing, soft grass underneath him-

_“Emil!”_

He opened his eyes.

“M… Marta.”

She was there, looking down on him with tears in her eyes, a soft glow surrounding the small red gem on her forehead. It wasn’t only here. The sheer number of people right behind her looking at him was startling. Lloyd and his friends, the Centurions, a wide selection of Spirits… and Martel. Or, at least, the Spirit who looked like her. They were all there, looking both shocked and relieved as Emil slowly lifted his upper body out of the grass and sat up. Immediately, Marta warped her arms around and clung to him tightly.

“Thank goodness…!” She cried. “You’re okay…! You still remember me… Y-You… didn’t forget again…!”

“Forget…?” he repeated, still not sure what had just happened.

Tenebrae approached the two of them and explained, “Lord Emil, it appears that you were struck down after taking the combined brunt of the attacks of Lady Marta and the Summon Spirit Martel.”

“Struck down--- You mean…?”

Lumen fluttered in, squeaking, “When we came here, there was just your Core on the floor! It was so scary!!”

Aqua joined in, “Seriously!! What were you doing!? Just when we thought you were finally past picking pointless fights… Ugh, I’m so going to tell Master Richter about this!”

“I-It was that bad!?” baffled, Emil dug his fingers into his hair. “But… I’m here now! I feel fine...”

Lloyd took the word, “Marta hatched the Core as quickly as she could, and Martel fed in some of the Tree’s Mana to help you recover enough to make it work. That’s probably why you didn’t take as much damage as last time it happened.”

“I… see…”

Emil looked at Marta, who was still squeezing him close to herself.

“Marta… I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to make you-“

“I-It’s okay…” she cried into his shoulder. “As long as you’re here… It’s okay…”

It really wasn’t okay, though.

Next, Emil looked at the woman called ‘Martel’. He still wasn’t entirely sure why she looked and sounded like that or why she had that name, but it was clear he owed her. He lowered his head.

“Thank you. Looks like if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here right now. I… won’t ask for forgiveness for what I just did, but-“

“Rather than showing humility, should you not offer explanation?” Martel said. Her voice sounded scolding, but her expression was more sad than angry. “All these people here, Lloyd, Colette and their friends, I told them what happened, but they refused to believe that you would attack without a reason. They trust you deeply. I feel you owe them the truth.”

It was amazing that the moment she said that they trusted him, he knew exactly that she was right. They all really were great friends. Just how the rumors from Palmacosta could never convince them that Lloyd was a lost cause, they probably would never give up on Emil now, either. But… that he attacked ‘Martel’ was not a rumor, nor an illusion. It was the truth. And ‘Martel’ was also right when she said they deserved to know why he would do that.

It was… probably time to ‘spill the coffee’. But…

“Can I…” Emil gently pulled out of Marta’s hug. He looked her in the eyes for a moment, then spoke to everyone. “Can I… have a few minutes for myself?”

“Emil…”

“I… I’m still not sure how to say it all,” he admitted. “And Zelos is right. Maybe I never will be. But I want to tell you. That’s the least you all deserve. I just… need to gather myself first.”

Everyone exchanged looks before, one after another, they silently nodded at Emil. Marta, too, took her hands off his shoulders and nodded.

“We’ll be here, waiting,” she said.

He quietly whispered a ‘thank you’ to her, then got up and split from the group. He didn’t go far, just a few meters back into the forest. There he sat down underneath a tree, closed his eyes and thought about what to do next. Even though he’d said he just needed a moment to ‘gather himself’ he didn’t really know what that entailed. Was there even a way to ‘gather’ himself? He still vaguely recalled what ‘Martel’ had told him during their battle.

‘ _Maybe… I’m too broken to fix_ ,’ he thought _. ‘Maybe it would’ve been better if I’d never remembered who I was. If I’d never left Luin…’_

But that would mean never having met Marta, so he dismissed the thought immediately. Even if this time they had couldn’t last forever, he never wanted to regret having met Marta. Just like how a part of him still didn’t regret meeting Mithos.

What part of him was that? His weakness, or his strength? Was he too weak to forget, or not strong enough to remember? He really didn’t know, but now he couldn’t afford not to know. If he couldn’t figure this out, how could he go on living alongside people? He didn’t want to use Marta or anybody else as a crutch for the rest of ‘Emil’s life. There was still so much more he wanted to do with them as ‘Emil’, so much more time he wanted to spend together. But how could he, if this was the way he was going to be whenever anything happened? Quietly Emil sat in the forest, his mind going in circles… Until he heard footsteps approaching.

He looked up and saw Genis standing in front of him, awkwardly fidgeted around.

“Hey…Emil?” Genis said without looking at him. “I know, you said you wanted to be alone, but, um, you haven’t eaten anything yet, have you? So, I thought maybe you’d like a sandwich?”

In Genis’ hand, there was a little bundle of food wrapping paper, a piece of bread sticking out on one side. Emil wasn’t sure what to say, but then his stomach answered for him by loudly growling. Even if he technically didn’t need to eat, apparently being ‘briefly dead’ can work up quite the appetite. He gracefully accepted the offer and let Genis sit down next to him. They shared the sandwich and for a little while, it was quiet between them. Finally, Genis said something.

“Did you…” he hesitated a little. “Did you know Mithos? Mithos Yggdrasil?”

Emil stopped eating. There it was again, that heavy weight in his stomach.

“…Yes,” a small nod. “I did.”

“That must’ve been… 4000 years ago, during the Kharlan War. Right?”

Again, Emil nodded. For a moment Genis fell quiet. Around them a few cicadas were beginning to sing. Night was probably about to fall.

“What…” Genis stumbled over his words a little. “What kind of person was he back then? …Mithos, I mean.”

“…” The first time Emil tried to speak, he found himself choking on the words and quickly closing his mouth again. The second time, however, it worked. “He… was really stubborn. He always wanted to do things his own way. But… that usually wasn’t a problem because he was very good at most things he did. Fighting, magic, all sorts of games…”

“He was great with the Kendama, too.”

“Hm?” Emil turned to look at Genis.

“I lent him mine once. Heh heh. He got it on first try,” Genis explained. “You should’ve seen Lloyd’s face! He was both, super impressed and _super_ jealous.”

“You… met Mithos?”

Genis stopped laughing. He slowly nodded. “…Mhm.”

“Where is he now?”

Genis fell silent, and Emil understood.

“Did…” he couldn’t stop himself from stuttering. “Did you guys… have to end it? I know that you’re the ones who let the Great Seed germinate. That’s why you have this bond with the Summon Spirit Martel. So-”

“Yeah…” Genis nodded. “We… We couldn’t save Mithos. It’s… like you say. He was really stubborn.”

“…I see.”

Emil leaned back. The song of the cicadas had gotten louder. It almost sounded mournful to him.

“So Mithos really is gone…”

“Did you want to fight him?”

“Hm?”

“I heard from Lloyd… In the Ginnungagap, when the Derris Emblem went out of control and turned us all to stone, that was really a curse you – I mean Ratatosk – wanted to cast on Mithos.” Genis slumped a little. “I mean, I get it. After what he did with the Great Seed, the Spirits and the world, you must’ve really hated him.”

“…Yes,” said Emil. “After everything, I really… really wanted to hurt him.”

“But somehow, just now it felt different.”

“Huh?”

Genis looked into Emil’s eyes.

“When we started talking about him, it didn’t sound like you hated him. It sounded more like… you missed him.”

Stunned, Emil looked at Genis, not saying anything.

“It sounded like… how I would talk about him to Lloyd or Raine sometimes,” said Genis.

Emil looked away.

“Emil, back when you lived as the Summon Spirit Ratatosk… were Mithos and you… friends?”

...What was this? Why this question? Why here, why Genis, why now?

‘ _Friends’_.

Right. It wasn’t just about the Tree…! It wasn’t just about the Seed! Losing his Tree and losing his Seed had been torture, like being ripped apart, but what hurt the most, what made him rage and feel so much hatred that he never wanted to see people again, even though inside he was so lonely and wished so badly for someone to stand by his side, was the fact that Mithos had been his- _had been his-_

A vessel overflowed. A dam broke.

“E-Emil!?”

Emil started to cry. He cried and cried. It was loud, it was ugly, and for Emil it was painful like fire. Eventually, Genis couldn’t just sit there and watch anymore. He hugged Emil as well as his small body allowed. There were tears in his eyes, too.

“I… Genis, I…!!” It must have been several minutes until Emil managed to force out words. “You’re right… He was my friend! I… _I thought he was my friend…!!_ ”

Genis was sobbing, “Y-You didn’t just think! I’m sure, he really was…!”

“Then why did he do it!?” Emil yelled. “Why did he betray everyone? _Why did he lie!?_ _Bastard! Good for nothing traitor!_ Didn’t he know that it hurts!? Didn’t he care what it would mean for us!?”

“I’m… I’m sure he cared…! _I know he did!!_ ”

_“Then, why…!?”_

Genis had no answer, but that was alright. All this time Emil had been afraid because he wasn’t sure if these feelings, he held back in the dark were even allowed to be real. But now he saw that Genis felt the same. If Genis’ feelings were real, so were his. They were both people, after all. However, even so…

“I… I don’t get it… Something must be wrong with me…!” Emil’s tears still wouldn’t stop. “How can I miss him so much and still want to hurt him. I… I want to scream at him and make him pay for what he did! But… I also want him back… I want to talk to him again… I want to tell him… I want him to tell me, that we’re still…!”

Suddenly, Emil felt a hand on his shoulder.

“I get it. I feel the same.”

Emil looked up, “…Lloyd.”

He wasn’t the only one who was there. Almost the entire group from earlier, their friends, the Centurion’s, Sheena’s Spirits, Yuan, and Marta, they had all followed him and Genis into the forest, probably because they’d heard them cry.

“There is no excusing what Mithos did,” Yuan began. He glanced in Lloyd’s direction before looking at Emil “I don’t know if you remember our… encounter after you went to meet Verius, but I would like to reiterate what you were told there: We should never have betrayed you. It was the first of many unforgivable things we did as Cruxis.”

The Spirit Celsius spoke up, “Usually, I’d laugh at this. One of the mightiest three among us, crying like this? …But… I get it. You were always awfully close to that boy, and what he did to us, especially to you and Origin, was simply atrocious.”

Origin took the chance to talk, “Ratatosk. Your Centurions told me of your outburst after you awakened, as well as about the fallout that followed. I will tell you: Had we awakened together and spoken before I met these people, I would most likely have agreed to your foolish plan. I, too, thought I could no longer trust mankind after what Mithos had done.”

“He did you even worse than me,” Emil remembered. “You were sealed away alive, weren’t you? I just fell asleep…”

“Yes. But even so, these people managed to restore both our faiths in their kind. We no longer need to curse the hope Mithos’ promises gave us, because they were fulfilled by another.”

“You’re saying… It’s okay if I still remember him as a friend? Even though I hate him so much…!?”

“Right! It’s okay!” said Genis, then he lowered his head. “I… I don’t think I could ever hate Mithos like you do. But I get why you feel that way. And in remembering him as a friend, we’re the same. He and I had a promise too, you know? It wasn’t anything like a Summoner’s Vow… But we promised each other we’d always be together. We couldn’t keep that promise, and it made me so mad. Ever since that day, I keep wondering if I could have changed something if I’d done things differently… Maybe, if I’d believed in him more, he’d have come around! But I can’t keep living in regret. That wouldn’t change his mind, and it’s not what he would’ve wanted…”

“I can’t ever forgive Mithos for what he did, either,” Lloyd said. “But I still wanted to save him. I wish I’d have found a way. If we’d saved him, then I could have dragged him back here and let him see that he was wrong! It wouldn’t have made up for everyone he made suffer, but it would have been a start. So, we’re the same. I wanted him to feel regret, too. But he’s still my friend. And I wish he could be here with us right now and apologize to you… And to the world. I know that deep inside, that’s what he wanted to do.”

“Lloyd… Genis… Everyone,” He’d calmed down a little, but tears were still flowing from Emil’s eyes. He tried to wipe them, but there was no use. It was then, that Tenebrae came and sat down next to him.

“Lord Ratatosk. You mustn’t be ashamed to cry,” he said. “These tears have been waiting… for 4000 years.”

“Tenebie is right,” Colette agreed. “Being able to cry is a wonderful thing. It just shows how deep your feelings are. It means you’re alive.”

He stopped wiping. By now, his sleeves were too soaked to make a difference anyway. Through blurry eyesight Emil looked at Colette and nodded. Yes, he was still alive. He was still here. And he had so many, many wonderful friends. They weren’t just trying to take his burden or make him feel better. Now he saw that they knew and understood him so much more than he could ever have dreamt. How stupid had he been to tell that other Summon Spirit that he had ‘nothing left’ anymore without the Kharlan Tree? The truth was that, now more than ever, he was amazingly, incredibly blessed.

“Hey, Emil?”

And there was Marta, who had been quietly listening in the back this entire time, stepping forward. She went down to him on her knees and took his hands.

“So, I don’t know anything about this Mithos-person, or what he was like. But if you were close, I would like to know more about him. After all, I’ve been meaning to start telling you more about myself too. About the Vanguard, Mommy and Daddy…” she smiled at him. “Would you start, and tell me a little bit about that person? If that’s alright with you.”

It wasn’t a promise to protect him, nor was it an attempt to soothe his emotions or take away his pain. She just wanted to know, clean and simple. Not to take on his burden, just to understand, like the others did. It was here that, for the first time in hours, Emil mustered a genuine smile.

“Y…Yeah. I think that might be nice…” he admitted and looked through the crowd of those gathered. “But I only know my side of the story. There’s a lot of things I never knew about either, I’m sure. Everyone… Would you help me with this? I… I want us all to tell Marta about this together.”

“Sure!” Lloyd grinned

“I certainly would not mind,” Origin stated.

“I’d love to,” this was Colette, and she was followed by Tenebrae’s chuckling.

“Ho, ho… Finally, after eons of holding my tongue, I get to share the tales of Mithos Yggdrasil’s excellent sense of humor with the world!”

“Wait, Mithos was into lame Dad Jokes?” Sheena wondered out loud.

Lloyd looked surprised. “That’s the first I’ve heard of it.“

“Wow, if that’s true, I take everything back. We totally can’t be friends anymore,” claimed Genis.

Marta, finally, laughed, “Ahahaha! Tenebrae’s face right now is priceless!”

What followed was a night not spent sleeping. The group kept talking and talking, sharing their experiences with and stories about Mithos, his sister Martel and their travels with Yuan and Kratos until long after the dawn broke. Emil had never been to a gathering quite like this, lively and overwhelmingly noisy, and yet he didn’t feel the need to withdraw even once. It was a little strange. All this time he’d tried to pretend that these experiences were his problem alone, because he’d been worried that, should he ever slip up, his feelings would either be met with confusion, or become a burden to Marta and everyone else he cared for. In the end that wasn’t how it turned out at all. Speaking in his friends’ and kindreds’ company, he felt safe, the pain became bearable, and a joy that he hadn’t been able to see any more in those memories became so much more apparent. That was how Emil could finally, _finally_ begin to accept that it was okay that he was still hurting and that it was still painful to recount all these awful and wonderful memories. Right here, right now, he could find a reason to smile through all of it.

For every story Emil told, his friends would reply to it with an anecdote of their own. Every emotion that confused him, at least one of them said they could relate to. Whether it was Lloyd, groaning empathetically at comparisons between who Mithos used to be and who he ended up becoming, other Spirits voicing their own distaste at the thousands of years they spent locked away behind the seals or Marta relating more than anyone else to the frightening feeling of watching somebody close to you change before your very eyes.

“I know, it’s not the same… But when Daddy changed, I found myself reevaluating everything he’d ever told me as well,” Marta said at one point. “Even the things that had nothing to do with the Vanguard, like how important it is to work hard for the things you want in life, all the times he told me that I was strong and would grow up into wonderful lady… Or, whenever he told me how much he cared for…”

She didn’t finish the sentence, but instead squeezed Emil’s hand a little. He nodded. Of course, he knew what she meant. In the face of even a single lie, it was tempting to see everything else as an illusion as well. Even things that were really true, such as ideals, empathy or the worth of somebody’s kindness.

Then, there was the matter of regrets. On that specific topic, Lloyd’s group had a lot to say. About the mistakes they’d made on their own journey, the things they wished they’d done better but would never get the chance to redo, such as the destructions of Iselia and Palmacosta, the deaths of several of their friends, and, of course, the suffering that could have been averted had they been honest with each other much sooner. Of course, there were also those regrets that were entirely outside of their control.

“Even if I don’t agree with how you dealt with your anger, I cannot fault you for it myself,” said Presea, and while she was ostensibly speaking to all of the Spirits, Emil knew that this part applied to him especially. “All the time you and this world lost because of what Mithos did to you all… That he took so much of it from you is unforgivable.”

“Hm… That’s how it may appear to a human, like you,” spoke Efreet. “But to us Summon Spirits time is not an absolute. The 4000 years we lost to him were less painful than what else he removed from us.”

“What else?” Sheena repeated in an asking tone.

“His ideals,” said Luna. “The hope for a shining future that he’d once bestowed upon us. When Mithos lost our trust, we lost… that future.”

“But the future is also a ‘time’,” argued Presea. “So… I believe what I said still applies.”

“Yeah. She’s right,” Emil nodded. “Maybe… Maybe it’s time we stop seeing ourselves as so different from them. When it comes to how these things make us feel, we’re probably all pretty much the same.”

“Aren’t you just saying that because you’ve been living as one of them for a while now?” asked Celsius.

It was Tenebrae who contradicted her. “No, Lord Emil is certainly not speaking out of bias, I assure you. It’s true; on first glance mankind may appear odd to us immortals, but from my own experience I am led to believe that this it is really no different from the strangeness we all tend to accuse each other of as well.”

“…You do have a point there.”

“People _are_ strange,” stated Origin. “But so is this world. It may be time to accept that fundamentally, we are all part of the same, unpredictable nature.”

“Yes, perhaps,” Undine agreed. “Doing so might prevent us from repeating our past mistakes in the future.”

“ARGH!” Lloyd finally stood up. “Enough with all the doom and gloom already! Is that really all we’re gonna be talking about?”

Zelos was grinning, “THERE’S my bud! Ready to liven up this grave-dead party a bit, huh?”

“It’s just… You guys all make it sound like there’s NOTHING more to life than getting disappointed, betrayed and things not working out… Why are we acting like everything has always been only bad!? Like, that one time-“

The stories continued, and their topics continued to shift. Humans, half-elves, Spirits and Centurions spent hours upon hours sharing more of their experiences. ‘When Mithos saved Lloyd and his friends by indirectly calling Aska’, ‘The time Mithos tricked Yuan into taking a walk through Gaoraccia forest with Kratos, ‘When Mithos convinced Genis to go and pick Fandalias in the Fooji mountains with him’, ‘That fight Tenebrae and Ratatosk had over how reliable Mithos really is’.

‘That time Celsius beat up Efreet in front of a group of humans and accidentally started a sun-cult.’

‘That one midsummer celebration at the Giant Tree that caused Volt to be uninvited from all further parties.’

‘That one time, when Ratatosk enlisted all Centurions to bully Origin as payback for an insult the later had called the former during a discussion…’

Times when Marta’s parents fought over silly things.

Stories of when Emil first came to Luin.

The many incidents of mutual teasing on the Journey of Regeneration.

Various food-related incidents…

Everyone had so much to say, about themselves, about the world, about Spirits. Eventually talk had shifted away from Mithos entirely and it didn’t take long until Raine, fascinated by all the history and interpersonal stories of the Spirits’ she heard, took control of the conversation.

“Fascinating!” Her eyes were gleaming. “I always only perceived Spirits as embodiments of the forces of nature that people pray to… But it appears you have a sense of society and culture of your own! If so, how did it come about that Spirits allowed people to make pacts with and summon them? There doesn’t appear to be any practical use to this tradition to your kind.”

“Hm…” This was a question Emil himself had to think about for a while, but Origin ended up answering before he could put his own reply into words.

“This arrangement was made in order to maintain a sense of balance,” the King of Spirits explained.

“Balance?” asked Raine.

Emil took his turn to speak, “Well, um, I guess it’s like this: When there is a hierarchy of power in the world, it makes it easy for those who are on the lower end to despair because they have no power of their own. Now, when it’s a hierarchy among People who’re all fundamentally the same in nature, it’s not as big a problem. Positions can change, people can grow stronger and those who’ve got power can lose it, but not only is there a gap between humans and elves that’s not as easy to bridge, because elves have magic and humans don’t, the gap between People and Spirits is even wider. That’s why we Spirits decided long ago to allow qualified people to borrow our power.”

“The qualification being an inherent resonance with our ability to manipulate Mana,” finished Origin.

“I see… It’s an arrangement made in order to settle the fundamental power-imbalance between people and Spirits.” Raine surmised.

Emil nodded, “It hasn’t always worked out, though… Going into detail would take too long, but what happened 4000 years ago definitely wasn’t the first time a pact went wrong. Then there’s also the fact that there’s a hierarchy of power among Spirits, too.”

“Right. Maxwell is the leader of the Greater Elemental Spirits, and Origin is the King of Summon Spirits in general,” said Sheena.

“And I have my Centurions and monsters,” Emil added.

“Hm… So, Maxwell stands above Efreet, Sylph, Celsius and Undine, and Origin stands above Maxwell… But all Spirits need Mana to survive, right?” Sheena turned to look at Emil. “Hey, how do you and Martel fit into that hierarchy anyway? I figure you’re above Maxwell, but how can Origin rule all Spirits, if the Spirit of the Tree rules over Mana?”

He shrugged, “I don’t think I’ve ever really thought about that before… Origin leads us all, though. So, in terms of hierarchy, the Spirit of the Tree is beneath him.”

“Yeah, but, like, if Origin and Ratatosk at full power fought, who would win?”

“Um, That’s…!“ Sheena’s question took Emil so off-guard, he almost dropped the cup of juice he’d been drinking from. “We haven’t really… tried that before. And honestly, I hope we never do.”

“Yes. There probably wouldn’t be much of a planet left to live on if that ever were to happen,” agreed Origin.

To be perfectly honest, Emil was surprised by how easy it was becoming for him to partake in ‘Spirit-talk’. Ever since he’d returned from the Ginnungagap, there had always been a sense of dissociation between him and his memories, which had often made it difficult for him to feel as if the ‘past’ he now recalled really was a valid part of him. Perhaps that was the reason why he’d never once searched out or spoken to another Spirit ever since recovering his memory. But now that slight haze over his perception of himself was clearing. The ‘veil’ between ‘then’ and ‘now’ had become almost transparent. He still felt as if the person he was now, ‘Emil’, should make use of the chance to live out the rest of ‘this life’ among humans… But the idea that one day he’d go back to living as a Spirit was finally starting to feel less alien to him. A rift he hadn’t fully acknowledged was even there before had finally been mended… which left only one worry on his mind. Whenever said worry crossed his thoughts, he found himself turning his eyes towards Marta.

_Beautiful, kind, caring, human Marta._

By the time most of them ran out of new things to talk about, it was the noon of the next day. Most of the humans and half-elves present had fallen asleep somewhere along the way. Colette and Genis laid snuggly curled up with their heads resting in Lloyd’s lap, who, himself slept leaned against a tree-stump with his mouth hanging open. Presea, who had gently draped a picknick blanket over the three of them to keep them warm, eventually decided to take a rest herself in a close-by spot. Zelos had found himself a patch of soft grass to serve as a cushion. Marta, too, had eventually gotten tired and fallen asleep with her head resting on Emil’s shoulder. He let Sheena help him lay her down and find a blanket to tug her in with. Regal, who had important business to attend to for his company, excused himself and left the forest. Most of the Spirits and a few of the Centurions had already left in a similar manner. In the end, Emil, Sheena, Raine, Yuan and a few Centurions were the last ones present and awake, taking care of putting away the leftovers of the previous’ nights’ picknick. The process didn’t come entirely natural to all those involved, _(“Lord Ratatosk, is this an ‘edible’?” – “If it’s not tableware or a blanket, you can eat it- Wait, no, not that, Ignis, that’s a bag!”_ ) so it took a while to bring some order into the chaos caused by everyone’s feast.

“Sheena, Raine, Yuan, you know… If you’re tired, you can lay down too. I don’t mind taking care of the rest with the Centurions,” said Emil. “I mean, it’s the least I can do after all the trouble I caused last night.”

“I was actually about to ask you the same, Emil. Wouldn’t you rather rest? Last night must have been exhausting to you,” Raine replied.

“I…” he looked away. “Spirits don’t need sleep.”

“But you don’t live a Spirit’s life now, do you? You breathe, you eat, and you sleep, just as we do. Whether you need it or not should be irrelevant as long as it puts your mind at ease.”

Emil listened to her words but stayed quiet. She wasn’t wrong. She wasn’t wrong at all, and yet-

Suddenly, somebody else laughed.

“What is it, Yuan?” asked Raine.

The man quickly stifled his own chuckle before he responded. “This is how Mithos used to treat Ratatosk as well. Always insisting that he ‘take care of himself’.”

“Is that so?”

After asking this question she turned to look at Emil. The boy was smiling.

“Right… Right, he did.” he said. “He really was… very kind.”

“And also, very cruel,” Raine replied.

“Yes… I understand that now. Just because it’s a contradiction, it doesn’t mean it isn’t both true. I mean, people can contradict themselves. I would know that better than anybody.” Emil sighed. “I really was stupid, huh? All this time I wished I didn’t have to remember. But now I’m glad that I did. I didn’t realize until we shared all shared our stories last night, but… there were so many memories in there that are still precious to me. Memories of Mithos and Martel…” Emil raised his head. “Ah, and I guess you were there too, Yuan! Sometimes… in the back…”

Yuan scoffed a little, “I see, I’m a background character in your life to you… That’s how it is…!”

“Ahaha! I finally see why Mithos always liked teasing you so much! You’re really easy to rile up.”

“Ghh…!”

Yuan’s reaction made Emil laugh even more. It felt good, being able to talk about these things and to laugh about them. Just yesterday he wouldn’t have been able to imagine himself speaking so freely of any of this, and now here he was, enjoying himself while remembering those times.

“I still believe you should allow yourself rest… But at the very least, it’s good to see that you are feeling better again, Emil,” Raine sounded only half-scolding.

“It’s all thanks to you guys,” Emil admitted. “If you hadn’t all insisted that I speak to you, I would probably still be pretending I’m okay, when really, I’m not. Even now…”

“Give yourself time,” said Sheena. “Meltokio wasn’t built in one day, you know. Even if it still hurts now, one day talking about it at least won’t be so difficult anymore. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”

“…Yeah. Thank you.”

He eventually took Raine up on her offer to skip clean-up and rest, but rather than laying down next to Marta, he gently brushed his finger across her face before excusing himself from the scene. He was heading back to the World Tree, he told the rest of the clean-up party. It was where he would be able to relax best, he said. That claim was true, but they knew it wasn’t the real reason he wanted to go there again. Sheena and Raine exchanged worried looks, as they knew exactly what and _who_ Emil would find if he went back there.

“Are you… really ready to see Martel again?” asked Sheena.

“I don’t know,” Emil admitted. “But I need to at least apologize to her properly.”

“Then go and do so,” Raine said. “But please, remember: You alone are responsible for whatever you say or do in her presence. We will be back here if you need our help or a place to retreat to, however.”

“Yes. I got it. Thank you.”

He made his way back to the clearing where he and Martel – the current Spirit of the World Tree – had fought a few hours ago. Then his mind had been frenzied and filled with anxiety, but when he stepped into the clearing now, he had the clarity to really appreciate the place. The air thick with Mana, the way the sunlight played with the grass and foliage and the waters of the mountain spring. As the Tree wasn’t tall enough to have a defined canopy yet, nothing hindered light from reaching the ground. It was a much brighter place than it had ever been when it had still been _his_ clearing and his Tree. Somehow, he found that the sight was wonderful, so much so that it now made him sad. He took a look at the plants growing around the Tree’s spring, touching some of their leaves.

“Ah… Peppermint.” And not just a small plant, an entire bush full of it. Emil wrinkled his nose and took a step back, but then laughed. “Ahaha. I guess she appreciates you guys a lot more than I did!” He tilted his head. “Yeah… It’s probably good this way.”

This really wasn’t his forest anymore. His home was somewhere else now. Time had moved on and healed this place’s scars… He wondered if one day, it would heal his, too. Emil took a step towards a branch of rosemary he saw growing close to the Tree. He smiled.

“Please heal lots of people for me, okay?” He then looked up at the Tree. “And you… Right. There really is no line connecting you and I anymore. I can tell, but… I still hope, you’ll at least allow me to help you protect this world. This wonderful world. I know, I wasn’t born here, but there are so many beautiful things here I wouldn’t want to be without anymore. The places and, yes, especially the people. How could I ever think that this world would be better off without any of them? I’m glad I came here. I’m glad I met the people I did, I…“

Her gently touched one of the Tree’s leaves. 

“I’m glad things happened the way they did. Even if it’s painful, even if I still want to cry, if things hadn’t been that way, I’d never have met Marta, or Richter or Lloyd. I could never have become the person I am now. That’s why it’s okay… Yes. This world is good the way it is.”

“So those are your true feelings?”

He didn’t need to turn around to know who was speaking to him. Emil closed his eyes and nodded.

“And your resentment?” she asked.

“…I can’t just make it go away,” he replied. “But, if anything, I at least don’t feel ‘incomplete’ anymore.”

“You have somewhere to return to now,” she said. “And someone.”

“For the time being, yes…”

“And once that time ends?”

“I’ll… cross that bridge when I get there.”

“I see. What a very human thing to say.”

“No. I think I’ve always been that way. I’ve never really… been the type to think important decisions through ahead of time, have I?”

“Ahaha, yes. Perhaps you are right about that… Hazel.”

“Martel…”

He turned around. There she was, smiling at him like she always used to, warm and motherly. It was this smile that had often made him think that if he had been born in this world, he’d have wanted it to be close to this woman and her brother. In the end, that wasn’t how things had come to pass, of course.

“You’re not really her, are you?” he asked with his head lowered. Martel kept smiling at him.

“I am her in every way that I am also not her,” she said. “Her heart and her memory live on in me, but so do many others. Spiritua, Adelle, Centhy, Elora… Those names are all as valid for me to respond to as the name of Martel Yggdrasil.

“Well… we’re the same then.”

“Hm?”

Emil straightened himself, finally returning the woman’s smile.

“I’ve been called ‘Ratatosk’, but ‘Hazel’ and ‘Emil’… Those are also me. Along with every other name someone who liked me has called me before. Time changes everything, this place, the Tree, the world, even me. The person I’m now isn’t the same I was 4000 years ago, when you called me ‘Hazel’. And the person I was then wasn’t the same as who I was when I first came to this planet. But they’re still all… me. There’s never been a version of me that wasn’t ‘me’.”

Though she seemed surprised by what she heard, Martel’s confusion soon turned into satisfaction. She closed her eyes and nodded at the boy.

“I see, you’ve picked up the pieces.”

“Really, there’s still a lot more I need to figure out, before I can really be ‘at peace’ with everything. But just for now I think it’s alright to just be ‘Emil’. Live out this life, be grateful for it, and then see what comes next…” He looked up at Martel. “When I- ...I mean. Since we’re the same in so many ways, if the time comes, and I’m still confused then… can I come to you and ask for your advice? Would you mind?”

They both knew that ‘advice’ wasn’t all he was asking for. Martel could see in his eyes that the possibility he was considering was far more important and drastic than just a mere consultation. But that wasn’t an issue to consider quite yet. As he’d said: They could cross that bridge once they got there. Martel nodded at him.

“Of course.”

Emil offered Martel his hand. She accepted and they shook.

“Let’s do all we can to protect this world together,” he said.

“Such is my reason for being,” Martel agreed.

“I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.”

“No. We’re sorry for all we put you through… Hazel, our dear friend.”

The Mana of the World Tree warmly enveloped them, making it almost feel as if the Tree, too, was offering him its thanks… and apologies. Of course, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ would never suffice to heal the resentment he still felt deep inside after all this time, but maybe one lifetime later, he’d feel differently. Everyone’s sense of self is subject to change with time. Even elves. Even Spirits.

When he returned to the place where he’d spent the night with his friends and kindred, Yuan was nowhere to be found and Sheena and Raine had joined the rest of their group in sleep. Emil, too, for the first time in weeks, thought that he was feeling a little sleepy. He laid down next to Marta, curling the fingers of his hand around hers and slowly allowed himself to drift away into peaceful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, this is the main plot done. All that's left is the wrap-up and the epilogue.
> 
> I don't have much to say about this one, so I'm just gonna say that there's been a heatwave going on in my country and it's hot and I hate it, and I just want to stream Persona 4 without being fried by the combined heat of the outside world and my PC. Oh, also, since my fanarts seemed fairly popular there, I actually tried to link the fic on reddit, but it's getting a bunch of downvotes... pff. I guess I really underestimated how unpopular a medium for fancontent non-comic fanfiction has been in recent years. Oh well.


	10. From Now On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really am hopeless without you.

“Well, our sleep rhythms sure are shot now.”

That was Genis’ announcement to the entire group when he realized they’d all managed to sleep through until nightfall.

“We should’ve just kept sleeping until dawn break,” said Lloyd, groaning. “Then again, I’m really not tired enough for that anymore…”

Genis grinned. “Just say something ruin-related! I’m sure Raine would love to serenade you back to sleep with one of her lectures.”

“Hey, that actually sounds like a good idea! You’re a genius, Genis!”

“- _AHEM_!”

No points for guessing the identity of the person angrily clearing her throat at that point.

Lloyd and Colette decided to head for Ozette with Presea to spend the night there. Zelos and the Sage siblings were headed for Meltokio. Sheena, finally, decided to accompany Emil and Marta back to Luin. She would spend the night at a hidden outpost of Mizuho’s close by, she said. Their paths settled like that, the group shared their ‘ _see you soon_ ’s and split up. It was only when they were already in midair that the Luin-bound group realized that they’d forgotten to ask Regal for some more of the medication for Marta’s motion sickness.

“ _Uhhh_ …”

The girl clinging to Emil’s back for dear life sounded less like his spunky girlfriend and more like an undead creature yearning to devour the lifeforce of the living.

“Hey… Hang in there Marta!” He tried to sound motivational, but really, he had no idea what motion-sickness felt like, let alone a fear of heights, so he best he could do was softly pet her hands. “I know! Let’s talk, like we did on the way here! Like, that cloud over there, doesn’t that look like-“

“I don’t see any clouds. It’s dark, Emil,” Marta groaned. Humans like her weren’t blessed with great night-vision. “And even if I did, I’m way too sick to be creative right now…”

“It was worth a try,” he sighed. 

“Would you like to take a break?” Sheena cast them a worried glance. “I’m sure Regal wouldn’t mind letting us stay over in Altamira for the night.”

Marta shook her head, “Thanks, but I’d really rather get home. Ugh… I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed.”

“Okay, but if you can’t take it anymore, you need to tell us right away,” Emil warned her. “Don’t overdo it.”

“I… I’ll be fine…” Marta claimed, though the weird burp she let out right afterwards sure didn’t make it sound that way.

Sheena and Emil looked at each other and agreed: The sooner they got back to Luin the better. Speeding up the vehicles a couple gears and feeding additional Lightning Mana into the engines to maintain the pace, they hoped to half the time it would take them to get to their destination, at the risk of straining the Rheairds a bit more than necessary. Throughout the whole journey, Emil kept holding Marta’s hand, even though the way she kept clinging to him was far from comfortable.

“Emil, I’m so sorry for this. This is so dumb…”

“It’s fine. You’ve been looking out for me a lot. It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t return the favor.”

“But… It’s not like that…!” Marta protested. “You don’t get it…! I _like_ taking care of you!”

“Marta…”

“I’m glad I was there… There’s nowhere I’d rather be than where I need to be to help make you happy,”

Emil squeezed her hand a little, “I like being there for you too. I just wish I’d been able to do more of that lately. I mean… I am supposed to be your knight, right?”

He meant to cheer her up. But, really, was this what she’d wanted to hear? Marta couldn’t help but think about the words Richter had told her a short while ago. About her responsibility.

“Emil… About that ‘knight’ thing…”

“Hm?”

“That was just something Tenebrae came up with to motivate us, right? A fairytale, to play into all the fantasies I had of you. But you’re not a fantasy. You’re a real person, just like me. You’ve lived your own life. That’s why I keep telling you, you don’t need to push yourself so much. You were there for me when I felt helpless, and whenever you need some more courage to make it through, I’ll be there to give it to you. I think that’s only natural. You don’t owe me any feigned strength.”

What Lloyd had told him a couple of days ago came back to Emil.

“It’s… okay to be weak sometimes,” he muttered.

“Yeah, exactly!” Marta agreed, and when Emil started to laugh in response, she tilted her head. “Hm? What’s so funny?”

“It’s just… I think I finally understand what that means,” he said. “I thought, since I’d gotten stronger, no, am _supposed_ _to be_ strong now, I had no excuse to let myself be a ‘burden’ to anyone and just kept going, even when I felt like I was about to burst. But now I see that that’s probably how he felt, too…”

“He…?”

“Mithos…” Emil sighed. “It’s funny. I remember now that back then his sister kept warning everyone about this. That it would all get too much for him, that failing us now would break him. I really didn’t get what her big deal was back then, but… in retrospect, she was right. He really did break. And while I can’t forgive him, now I at least get how it happened…”

“Mhm. I think I understand. It was the same with Daddy. I saw him change, but until I figured out how it happened and why, it never quite felt real. It was always hazy, like one day I’d just ‘wake up’ and everything would go back to normal…” Marta sighed, then raised her head. “Say, Emil. If you had a chance to talk to that Mithos-person one more time, what would you do?”

“Hm…” Emil took a moment to think. “I guess I would… punch him?”

“Punch him?” Marta seemed a little surprised.

“Then, I’d yell at him.” He sounded a little more enthusiastic. “ _What were you thinking!?_ _Traitor! Take off that crystal and fight me like a man already!_ …Something like that.”

“That kind of sounds like you’d keep punching him throughout the whole thing…”

He did not deny her assessment.

“Then, at the end, after we’ve fought… I’d ask him if we’re still friends,” Emil gripped the handles of the Rheaird tighter. “Because- and I’d say that- I’d like to be friends again.”

“Emil…”

“Last night I was thinking. If Lloyd can do it, can still think of Mithos that way, despite not forgiving him for anything he’s done, I’d like to try as well. After all, in so many ways I’m not that different from him anymore. “

“Not that different from who?” Marta asked. “Lloyd or… Mithos?”

“I really don’t think it matters which.”

Marta wasn’t sure what he meant by that. In the end, she still only knew stories about that ‘Mithos’. She squeezed herself tightly into Emil’s back and sighed.

“If you think you could still be friends with that person, then I think I could try and be too. I know how good you are at choosing who to trust. The people you make friends with all turn out to be really special.”

“And you were the first,” he said.

Marta laughed, “Awww, you’re flattering me! We both know that’s only true if you don’t count anything that happened before you woke up in Palmacosta!”

“Well, I don’t. Not for this,” he looked at her and smiled. “To who I am now, the ‘me’ that was reborn into this new world, you were the one who called me back to life, and the first one I wanted to trust, even at my angriest.”

Marta felt speechless for a moment. They actually hadn’t really talked much about that moment before, other than discussing it in their shared journal. Now it was her turn to recall a memory that already seemed far away.

“Ah… Right, I remember now. I was so focused on how ‘Emil’ had saved me, that I totally forgot that I’d called for ‘Ratatosk’ back then.”

“You asked for my help,” he nodded, then looked away. “I’m still kind of ashamed about that.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I wrote it in the journal, didn’t I? I wasn’t the one who took down the people chasing you back then. They were already out cold when I came to.”

“But you still helped me.”

He made a face, “How? By using you as a decoy? That’s the opposite of helping…”

Marta, however, lifted up the fringe of her hair, showing the red gem.

“You gave me power,” she said. “Because of that I was finally able to feel like I could do something, stand up to the Vanguard. It wasn’t enough to make me brave enough to face Daddy yet, but… Eventually, you gave me that courage too. Emil, from the beginning to now, you’ve always been there for me. That matters so much more than just guarding me once.”

“Marta…” he looked away from her. “…You’re reading too much into this.”

“I don’t think I am. Do you remember the very first thing you said? Right after you woke up?”

Emil took a moment to think. As empty as his mind had been back then, the scene was still rather foggy in his memory, even more so than anything even further in his past.

“I… I’m not sure,” he admitted.

“ _Are you alright?_ …That was the first thing you ever said to me. Did you realize that?”

No. He didn’t. It stunned him a little.

Marta smiled, “Tenebrae may have called that Core a ‘fake’ and a ‘decoy’. But… we both know that he tends to look at things from the negative side. Sure, maybe part of you was trying to protect himself by putting that thing on me, but would you really have needed to give me that much power just for that? I’m sure, somewhere inside, you also wanted to help me protect myself. Because… That’s what I asked for.”

“What you asked for…?”

“Last night you mentioned that that Summoner, Mithos, often called you ‘kind’. I think that’s how you’ve always been, even when you didn’t see yourself that way. It’s like with your cooking: Even when you’re in a bad mood, you’ll use seasonings you don’t like just because it makes someone else happy. It’s second nature to you. You’re always so quick to blame yourself when bad things happen, I think it makes it hard for you to see your own good parts. When you focus on the times you get scared or angry, you always forget about the times you’re courageous or gentle. But others see those parts of you, not just because we want to see them, but because you are always there and use them to help us when we need it most. That’s… how I see you,” she took his hand and quickly pressed a kiss on his cheek from behind. “Especially now! So, don’t think of yourself as a burden, okay?”

They’d come full cycle. ‘ _It’s okay to be weak._ ’ As long as he kept trying to overcome it, he had nothing to be ashamed of, not the times he was a coward, not the times he’d forgotten himself in rage, nor that he’d let his grief overwhelm him. There’d been so many times and ways he’d shown his flaws, but despite this Marta and his friends still saw and believed in his strengths. It was probably high time he trusted his own strengths a little more as well, at least for now.

“Alright, you two, not much longer now! Luin’s just come into view!” Sheena eventually announced. However, the cheery tone in her voice quickly disappeared when she realized that something was wrong. At this time of the night, she shouldn’t have been able to see the town from this distance, at least not so well. “Wait… H-Huh!? What’s that light…?”

By now, Emil and Marta were seeing it too, and it almost made them loose their grip on the vehicle.

“Is that… fire!?” Marta shrieked.

Emil’s eyes turned sharp, “We need to get down there. Now!”

They pushed the Rheairds to their limit, rushing to land by Luin’s gates. By the time they crossed the bridge into town the screams of fleeing townsfolk and flames licking on the roofs of the houses in the residential district made it incredibly obvious what was happening here. People were rushing past the three of them, escaping the town in droves as armored strangers pushed around and threatened whoever refused to leave their house willingly or tried to take along any of their possessions.

“Bandits…!” Sheena realized. “They set fire to the town so nobody would be able to stop them from looting!”

“But why now? Why Luin, of all places!?” Marta couldn’t make sense of it. “Just yesterday everything was fine!”

Emil took a step forward “We can talk about that later! Right now, we have to save the town!”

Sheena drew one of her cards. “I’ll have Undine put out the fires!”

“I’ll go check on the mayor!” said Marta.

“And I’ll try and drive those bastards out of the residential areas,” he drew his sword. “I’m worried about Alba and Flora…”

The three of them split up, each running into a different direction. While Marta crossed the bridge into the administrative district, Emil immediately got to attacking the Bandits in his path, giving the citizens they were harassing a chance to either secure their homes or at least escape safely. His blade was swung, enemies were pushed against a wall and forced to surrender, and stolen goods were recovered and returned to their rightful owners. The bandits had taken people’s belongings indiscriminately. At one point, Emil even found himself handing a torn doll back to a little kid.

“Sorry, it got damaged… If you come by my house after this is all over, I’ll help you fix it, okay?”

“Thank you so much, Mister!” The child held the toy close and cuddled it.

The parents too expressed their thanks, “Emil- I mean, Milord! We owe you our lives…!”

“Cut the ‘Lord’, I live here too. I’d have to be stupid to not do what I can to help,” he told them. “Are there still many people left in this part of town?”

“There should be a few. Some refused to flee and locked themselves up in their houses instead.”

“What about Al—my aunt and uncle?”

“We last saw Alba trying to help the Innkeeper defend the house.”

“Alright…”

He told the family to go find Sheena at the Fountain Plaza, where she’d be able to protect them, then hurried on further into the town, driving back the attackers wherever he saw them. Within minutes heavy clouds formed above the town and rain came pouring down, hindering the flames in their advance.

“Good work, Sheena, Undine,” he said to himself. “Alright. This is the last block. The Inn is-“

-In flames. He arrived just in time to see fire burst from the house’s roof.

“…Ah! Dammit!” He could only pray he wasn’t too late. Emil rushed to what used to be his home, for however short a time.

It was obvious that the fire had already been raging for a while and the Inn had taken substantial damage, but that was not the most immediate problem Emil encounter when approaching the building. More alarming was the sight of three men from the townsfolk, Alba among them, cornered by a group of thugs wielding swords and spears. The fierce look on Alba’s face was entirely betrayed by the fact that him and his two friends stood backed up against a wall. Emil leapt in before the bandits had a chance to see him coming. A Demon Fang, a Havoc Strike and a quick series of slashes were what it took him to send the enemies stumbling for long enough to allow Alba’s team to push their way through and swap positions with the bandits.

“…Emil!” Everything happened so quickly that Alba felt very surprised when he suddenly found himself fighting by the boy’s side. “When did you-?“

He tried to keep it quick. “Where’s Flora?`”

“Inside the house. We were trying to evacuate her when they cornered us.”

“Wait, inside _there_!?”

There was no time to continue the conversation. The bandits were already pushing back again. Emil had had just about enough of these people. While he was wasting time dealing with them, there was a woman trapped in a burning house behind him! …Actually, maybe there was a way to take care of that while continuing this battle. He rose his hand.

“ _Aqua! Solum!_ ”

The Centurions answered his call without delay, appearing out of thin air in midst of the battlefield.

“H-Huh? W-What’s happening here…!?” Solum shrieked and stuttered.

Aqua was more focused, “Lord Emil!”

The sight of the two odd creatures caused most of the battle’s participants to stop fighting and stare for a moment. Alba took a step back and gasped.

“M-Monsters…!?”

“Maybe they’re Spirits…!” uttered one of the other Luinites in awe. “You know, like the twins said-“

Emil chose to ignore that conversation for now. He looked at Aqua and Solum.

“Put out that fire and stabilize that house however you can! There’s at least one woman still inside. If anyone is wounded, let monsters heal them!”

“Understood!”

“Y-Yes…!”

The two of them heeded his command and flew off towards the building. Alba remained stunned.

“Emil… So, you’re really…”

The enemies had already begun to regain their composure. The spear lunged for Alba. Emil swung his blade and parried the attack only to be blade-locked with another bandit a second later. He pushed him back, too.

“Argh-! We don’t have time for this now!” he yelled. “Let’s just focus on driving this scum out of our home!”

“…You’re right,” Alba raised his weapon. “For our Luin!”

The team of four Luinites, Emil included, pushed back against the invaders fiercely. On Emil’s suggestion, the men began to focus on disarming the opponent and destroying their weapons. Their spears and swords rendered unusable, the bandits’ confidence quickly deflated, leaving them just a few seconds to cast a pale-faced stare at the defenders before unceremoniously being send running for the town gate’s. The rows of invaders thinned gradually.

It was around this time that the victorious cheers of Alba’s men were shattered by the sound of part of the Inn building’s roof collapsing behind them. Alba whirled around.

“Flora…!”

Emil ran past him, “I’ll check on her!”

Those two or three disarmed thugs still giving resistance Alba and his friends could easily drive back on their own. Avoiding casualties took priority. Despite the searing heat, Emil didn’t have much trouble climbing up the side of the building and making his way to the window of the room he used to stay in. The wall was partially charred, but thankfully still stable enough to carry his light weight. He crawled inside and rushed past shelves full of the books he used to read when he was on his own, some of which had already been reduced to ashes. _‘I wonder how much of Marta’s and my house has been destroyed like this already?’_ Emil briefly thought to himself, but quickly shook off the thought. He couldn’t worry about that right now. The door to the kitchen was still untouched by the fire, but the handle was too hot to touch, as Emil realized upon receiving a nasty second-degree burn, which he had to waste some Mana on healing. In the end he just kicked the door down.

Behind he found a strange construction of rocky pillars just barely holding up what remained of the house’s roof. Aqua and two Seirens were pushing back the flames, while Solum was doing her best trying to move some rubble out of the way. Emil quickly saw why Solum was doing that: Stuck underneath one of the house’s fallen support beams, there was a middle-aged woman gnashing her teeth in pain.

“Ma’am, don’t move! You’re just going to hurt yourself more!” Aqua had commanded one of the Seirens to cast First Aid on the human, but Flora was clearly too confused and overwhelmed by the entire situation to listen to the Centurion’s warning.

Emil ran to help.

“Aunt Flora!”

“E-Emil…?” the woman gasped through her pain. “Thank goodness…These monsters showed up all of a sudden… And then, the ceiling…Argh…!”

“They’re with me. Don’t be scared of them,” he tried to soothe her worries about the ‘monsters’. “Anyway, Aqua is right, try not to move. We’ll get you out of there in a moment!”

Flora bit her lip and nodded at him.

Aided by a barrage of healing spells to maintain Flora’s life, Emil began to help Solum move the rubble out of the way without damaging the integrity of the building any further. That was easier said than done, as Emil soon realized just how drained he felt after just moving a few pieces of wood. He supposed he’d been fighting quite a while already, so maybe it made sense, but… ‘ _No. I’m not tired. That’s ridiculous_ ,’ he told himself. ‘ _It’s just the heat… And if I feel that way, how bad must this be for Flora? We need to get her out of here._ ’

He was just wiping a few droplets of sweat out of his face when he heard something that shouldn’t have been here behind him: The voices of strangers.

“Hm? There was still someone other than that crone in here? Pretty gutsy, kid.”

“Boss, look! The kid’s commanding the monsters around!”

Emil quickly turned around and found two adults, a young woman, and a man, wearing the same kind of armor as the bandits he’d fought out in town.

“You…!” He drew his sword, then threw a glance back. “Solum, get Flora out of here! I’m not sure I can keep the house standing if I have to fight in here.”

“Y-Yes, my Lord!”

The bandit lady puckered her lips a bit upon witnessing Emil’s actions.

“Oh, seems like you’re right! A little brat, ordering around monsters… Now, were have we seen this before…”

The other bandit nodded, “Just like that Alice! Which means, he’s probably got an Exsphere somewhere on him, too!”

“Mhm. Jackpot.”

“Alice…?” Emil muttered.

Now there was a name he hadn’t heard in a while. It wasn’t hard to figure out what this meant, though: These guys probably used to be in the Vanguard. No wonder they thought he was using an Exsphere. As much as he hated to admit it, to an outside observer, his command over the Centurions and monsters probably didn’t look very different from how Alice had treated her “pets”… Was this why these thugs were here? To raid the town for Exspheres? But why, Luin, of all places? Whatever could’ve made these people think that they’d have any luck finding something so powerful-

“Well, well, looks like we found them… The famous, so-called ‘Divine Medium.”

“The tip we got in Palmacosta wasn’t a dud after all!”

…Of course. Of course, _what else_ would it be? What else could this have been than _his fault_? Emil felt a cold shiver going down his spine. The rumors around him pushed Luin into public attention, and that’s what had drawn those people here. Ah, but, of course, this wasn’t the first time that happened, right? This was just the same as when the Vanguard staged the blood purge in Palmacosta because of the chain-reaction he had set in motion by killing Aster. Or the _other_ time Luin was attacked for the ‘Core’ on Marta’s forehead. Because he lashed out, because he hid himself, because he accidentally revealed his powers… Everytime he made a bad decision, _other_ people suffered for it. It was enough. Enough already. Emil began to yell at the enemy.

“ _Alright_! You wanted to get me? Fine! You’ve got me! But leave the people of this town alone! If it’s _me_ you want, then fight _me_! All of you! Out in the open!”

“Oh?” The Bandit lady raised a brow, seeming half-confused, half-fascinated. “You want to take on all of us? A scrawny kid like you? That Exsphere of yours sure must be something… Well, all the better.”

Just that moment Solum had finally managed to dig Flora out from under the rubble. The woman tried to stand, but her legs were too, weak and she stumbled to the ground.

“Emil…!” she called.

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle this!” he told her. “Aqua, Solum!”

“Yes, Master!”

Flora was quickly loaded onto the back of one of the Seirens, who then followed the two Centurions’ lead outside, escaping through a hole in the wall. Now it was just Emil and the two Bandits in front of him.

“You’re really serious about that? You want to take all of us on by yourself? No tricks?”

“Leave the townsfolk alone, and you can come and try take whatever you think I have from me! Doesn’t mean I’ll make it easy.”

“Ohh~, you’re scaring me now. A single kid with an Exsphere says he’s gonna beat up all 30 of us! Whatever will we do?”

“Tch. Insolent brat!” The man added to his colleague’s incredulous comments.

_‘This is alright. If they underestimate me, all the better,’_ Emil thought to himself. _‘If I can get them to regroup and fight me, I’ll be able to drive all of them out at once!’_

Meanwhile, at the other end of town, Marta had her own hands full.

Unlike the residential district, the administrative area was mostly unharmed. The bandits had showed little interest in looting the mayor’s house or the church. A few of the townspeople had taken notice of that fact as well and taken shelter in Martel’s holy halls, which, however, had drawn the attention of a few stragglers from the lot of the attackers. They were trying to force their way into the church. Marta fought them off.

“ _Receive the judgment of the iridescent blade! Prism Sword!_ ”

“Wha- Magic!?”

“A half-elf!?”

“She doesn’t feel like she shares my blood…!”

Marta didn’t pay their speculations any mind. She’d already gleaned from other conversations between them that this group was mostly made up of former Vanguard members, however, it didn’t seem like any of them recognized her. Good. This situation was already messed up enough without these thugs going blind with rage and revenge-fantasies on her, let alone the possibility that any of them might have actually bought into the whole ‘Sylverant Dynasty’ thing and might start spouting nonsense about kings and princesses at her. What mattered right now was keeping the people who were hiding in the church safe. Marta wasn’t _entirely_ on her own, the local Martel-Priest stood by her side and made a valiant effort to ward off the attackers as well… but ‘make an effort’ was really all that man could do, frankly.

“Oh…! Bless your divine powers, Lady Lualdi!”

“Just… Go back inside! If you can, lock the gates! I can take care of these guys!”

“Ah, yes, of course!”

The priest bowed to Marta, then fled back into the church. Marta was on her own now, but as the number of attackers was just four and none of them were particularly powerful, she felt confident in her ability to take them on. The Prism Sword had already forced one of them onto their knees. Next she’d have to take down their spellcaster.

_“Photon!”_

“Argh-!”

“Damn! She’s just a kid! How is she doing this!?”

“Maybe she is the Exsphere-user we were supposed to look out for!”

Marta looked up, “…Exsphere?”

She reflexively covered her forehead with her hand. Exsphere hunters… Not good. If any of them saw the gem, they’d go for broke. She’d have to take them out before that could happen. It was a good thing none of these people were particularly skilled. All she had to do was cast her spells quickly enough to keep them on distance. One by one the bandits were brought down by her magic, none the wiser regarding its source. Finally all four of them laid to her feet. Marta took the time to grab some rope she had gotten from the mayor’s daughter’s shop and tie them up nice and tightly, just to make sure they wouldn’t escape or retaliate.

“…And that’s it for these guys!” she said to herself, looking over her work. Next, she took a look around. “Hm… Doesn’t look like reinforcements are coming. The rain’s winding down too. I guess that means Emil and Sheena have finished up as well.”

She let out a relieved sigh. The streets were empty, the fires extinguished. This had been close. Thank goodness Emil and her had come back to town when they did… Though, it would probably have been better if they’d been around to help from the very beginning.

_‘If these guys are Exsphere hunters, they probably came here following the same rumor as Lloyd and Colette…’_ Marta touched the gem on her forehead again. _‘I’ll have to tap into the funds Daddy passed on to me to help restore the damaged buildings. That’s the least I can do for not realizing earlier that this might happen.’_

She knew there was no use in blaming anyone, let alone herself, for the rumors spreading and getting out of control as they did, but she still couldn’t help but feel guilty. Even though she wasn’t originally from here, Luins tumultuous history was well known in Sylverant. Even with all the torment Emil was put through here in the past, the people of this town were still fundamentally good and didn’t deserve becoming the target of devastation like this over and over again. But that was how it tended to go in Sylverant: Poverty, followed by crisis, followed by disaster, over and over and over, not only in Luin, but everywhere. That’s why she’d been fighting so hard ever since she’d been 14. She’d always wanted to make this country, her home, into a place worth living for everyone… and yet tonight she hadn’t been here to prevent a danger she’d indirectly helped draw to this town.

Marta decided to head back for the fountain plaza. If there was anything else left to do, she could discuss it with the others there. Through the last droplets of Undine’s rain, Marta jogged out of the administrative district, around a corner- And saw familiar silhouettes pass by just a meter overhead her.

“Huh!? Aqua?”

The Centurions noticed Marta’s voice and changed course to meet with her. The girl now found herself in front of Aqua, Solum and the monsters following them.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Lord Emil summoned us to help defend the Inn,” Aqua explained.

“The Inn? How’s it look there?”

Solum fidgeted around, “N-Not good… But the lady is okay… probably…”

“Lady…?” Only now Marta noticed what the Seiren Aqua commanded was carrying. “Flora!”

The woman didn’t respond to her. She must’ve passed out somewhere down the line.

“We did the best we could do for a human, but she might have some broken bones,” Aqua looked seriously worried. “The sooner we bring her to a doctor, the better.”

“Mhm. I agree! We should probably get her to Sheena for now. But, hey, what abou-“ Marta didn’t get to finish that sentence. The words got stuck in her throat when she was struck by a sudden headache. “ _Argh-!!_ ”

“Lady Marta!?”

“W-What’s wrong…?”

Marta had sunken down onto her knees. Panting and trembling, she led her hands up to her forehead, clutching the jewel.

“E-Emil…” she sounded terrified. “That was Emil’s voice just now, he…! He’s in pain-!“

“Huh…!?”

The two Centurions could not make sense of the words of their master’s consort. Last they’d seen him, he’d been faced with humans, just mere mortals. How could that sort of opponent possibly give a being so immensely powerful trouble, let alone cause him pain?

Of course, they had no idea of what was happening at the other end of town, or of the state their Lord was in. By the bridge to Luin’s eastern gate a battle was raging, and Emil was not winning.

“AH! Ungh…!”

“Is that all you got, kid? Tch. That’s disappointing. Talk about all bark.”

After that last blow Emil had trouble getting back on his feet. He had to use his sword to support him. His body, usually nimble and light on its feet, felt heavy like a rock right now. What was going on? Yes, the number of enemies was high; about 2-3 dozens of the bandits had gathered here in a mob-like formation to have a go at taking him out, but even so they were just humans and a few half-elves who were barely skilled in using their own magic. He shouldn’t be struggling like this! Had he underestimated how much the battle against Martel the other day had really taken out of him…?

“Emil!” That was Alba’s voice. Him and the two other men stood by the sidelines, held back from joining the battle by a vague barrier one of the bandits had cast. Emil could see the three Luinites raise their weapons, trying to come to his aid.

“S-Stay back!” he called. “This is my fight!”

“Stupid kid, you’re going to get yourself killed!” Alba bellowed.

No. He wouldn’t. Summon Spirits couldn’t just die. The only ones here who might be killed because of his poor decisions were the people of Luin, and he could not let that happen. After everything he’d done, protecting this town that he’d dragged into such grave danger was the least he could do.

‘ _Ain Soph Aur… maybe? I’m not sure I can gather the Mana for it without destabilizing my form, but…_ ’ He tried to get on his legs, only for pain to make him stagger and immediately fall again. _‘It’s no use...! I can’t even charge up like this…!’_

So, this was how ‘far’ he could go when he tried to actually protect people? Pathetic. How was he ever going to make up for everything that had happened at this rate? If he couldn’t even do the one thing he was supposed to be good at, how was he ever going to repay-

“ _Heal_!”

Marta’s voice rung out behind him, and Emil could feel the pain in his limbs lessen and his fatigue recede. He managed to get back on his feet, just in time to see the healing spell’s caster running down the street.

“Emil! I’m coming!!”

“Marta! What are you-” He noticed her trying to slice her way past the surrounding mob to join him on the battlefield. “No, stay away! I need to fight them off on my own!”

“What!” Marta had just finished wrestling down a young man and woman trying to hold her back. “Why!?”

“Because-!” The attacks on Emil, too, had resumed. He blocked a strike from the bandit leader, fought off two incoming swordsmen with kicks and finished with a long, wide swing of his blade against the boss. “If I hadn’t come back here, this town wouldn’t even be under attack!”

Unhindered by Emil’s demands, Marta kept advancing towards him, striking down two casters on her way. “We made the decision to live here _together_!”

Emil swung his sword, this time pushing back three bandits. “You’re not the one who caused all those rumors to spread!”

Marta elbowed an ax-wielder in the ribs. “I’m the one who made you come back in the first place!”

“If it weren’t for what I’ve done, nobody would be paying attention to this town!”

“And if I had never helped found the Vanguard, these guys wouldn’t be hunting down Exspheres right now!”

“This isn’t your fault, Marta!”

“ _It’s not yours either!!_ ”

They stood back on back now. While they’d already defeated a large number of enemies, a few of them had gotten back on their feet already and even more were still left in reserve. Emil and Marta were surrounded. The boss of the bandits, standing a little east of them, raised a brow.

“Huh. What was that all that big talk about you ‘taking us on your own’ again? Figures you’d end up crying for backup. Tsk. Kids.”

Meanwhile, the bandits were talking among themselves.

“That girl… Isn’t that Marta Lualdi?”

“The Lualdis are pureblood humans! How is she using magic?”

“She has an Exsphere! I saw it on her forehead!”

“Let’s grab it!”

Emil cursed under his breath. _No…!_ How could he ever draw the enemy’s attention away from Marta now? He couldn’t allow her to get tangled up in his messes anymore. If these people laid even a finger on her, he didn’t know who he’d hate more for it. The bandits, or himself.

He turned his head a little, “Marta, please…”

“You can’t do this on your own, Emil,” she told him. “I felt it through our bond. You were going to die!”

“You know I can’t ‘die’, I-“

“ _Idiot_! You really think I ever want to see you like _that_ again!? I’m sick of it already!”

Emil fell quiet. It occurred to him, that, despite all their differences, perhaps when it came to seeing the other get hurt, Marta and he were exactly the same. He could feel her warmth against his back.

“I know you don’t want anyone to get hurt because of you anymore. But you don’t have to fight on your own, Emil. In fact, you can’t. I have part of your power, remember? So, can you really say that you’ve fought with ‘all your might’ if I didn’t fight alongside you? We’re a team, right? That’s what I wanted us to always be. It’s why I wanted this connection. So…can you trust me that way?”

“Marta… Marta, I _do_ trust you!”

The mob was closing in on them. They’d have to strike back soon.

“Then let’s stop this stupid role-playing game already! You’re not ‘prince charming’ coming to save me, or my ‘guardian spirit’ or somebody who owes me some special debt, you’re my partner! If you’re my knight, then I’m yours. I’ll protect you, like you’ve always protected me. And if we work together, as one, then I’m sure…!”

“…You want to protect this town together?”

“And Sylverant! I want to unify it! You know how much I want to find a way to stop this sort of chaos once and for all. And when it happens, I want you to be by my side! So I can feel _‘Yes, we did it together! We made this world even more beautiful.’_ ”

“But you’re already doing that on your own. Do you really need my help for that?”

“You’re already helping. You’ve always been!”

They had to battle. Back on back, they struck back against their advancing opponents, pushing back and defeating them one by one, Arte for Arte. Throughout the fight, they kept talking.

“Emil. You, Richter and the Centurions are working so hard to protect this world for us every day, and even though they all tell you to take it easy for now, you keep going back and helping. I can tell you’re really dedicated to sealing off the Gate, but even so, you came back for me, and you’re always there for when I need you most. Just thinking of you helps me pull through, even at times when I feel like it’s hopeless.”

“But most of the time I’m not really doing much of anything. Richter and the Centurions are doing all the heavy lifting at the Gate, strengthening Sylverant’s position in the world is all you, and right now, I can’t even fight right.”

“That’s not true! You’re doing a little of everything! And if you’re okay with getting more involved in what I’m doing advocating for Sylverant, then I’d like you to come along on my next trip to Meltokio!”

The rows of enemies were thinning, the tension on the battlefield rising. The leader of the bandits took a step back, looking incredulous.

“What!? When there was only one of them, we were wiping the floor with him, and now that there’s two, suddenly we’re losing!? W-What are these kids!?”

Marta and Emil kept fighting and talking.

“Marta, I… I’m not sure how I _could_ help. I don’t really know anything about politics. Most of the time, especially when it comes to human stuff, I’m hopeless without you.”

“That meets well! Heh heh! I’m hopeless without you, too!”

“Marta…”

Emil was starting to notice it now, how well their two battle styles had synchronized, how they’d instinctually adjusted their movements to one augment the other’s. On his own, he’d been struggling in this battle, but now that Marta was fighting with him, it was easy. It wasn’t because Marta did ‘the heavy lifting’. It was because their hearts were one. It made him feel strong, stronger than he could ever have been on his own, even at his most powerful.

_‘It’s okay to be weak_ ’, because the truth was, he was never _really_ weak. There were just times when he felt alone. But the moment there was somebody by his side, somebody he could walk alongside, together as one, he felt the strength to do just about anything. With Marta by his side, he could feel confident in his own power, not as the Summon Spirit of Mana, but as Emil.

“Let’s send them packing, Emil!”

“…Yes! Right behind you!”

They raised their weapons up and gathered energy.

“ _Ars Nova!_ ”

That was the end of the battle. Bathed in the radiant light of the Mana they had collected in their weapons, the two of them struck sufficient fear into the hearts of Luin’s attackers to cause them to flee the town in terror. Sheena, Undine, Aqua and Solum arrived at the eastside of town just in time to witness the last of the bandits running. Slowly the entire population of the town gathered around, curious to see what had happened. There stood Emil and Marta in the middle of the street, smiling at one another, as the first light of dawn broke through the thinning clouds above.

“The rumors about us probably won’t stop after this, huh?” Emil asked.

“Yeah,” Marta nodded, holding his hand.

“Then we should probably… keep protecting this town together from now on.”

“Yes. Let’s do that.” she nodded again.

They almost couldn’t hear the jubilant cheers of the townspeople over their own happiness. It felt as if the very last wall between them had finally, finally, broken down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this was a published novel, this entire chapter would've been cut mercilessly, but I left it in here because I felt there was value in wrapping up the Luin-subplot and give some perspective on Marta's and Emil's relationship with the town and the world as a whole. Still, there were quite a few times during the writing process where I looked at myself in the mirror and asked "Wait, why did I set Luin on fire again?" I guess burning towns are just a very classical Symphonia plot-device in a way... ahaha.
> 
> Now, the only thing left is the epilogue. It feels pretty bittersweet... Once again, thank you all for sticking with this story until this point! I am so glad I could put this little tale out into the world!


	11. Epilogue – 200 Eternities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spirit of the Tree, a half-elven woman and a half-elven boy are laughing together, sharing tales of this beautiful world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we begin, one final author's note.
> 
> So here we are. The Epilogue. There's a lot in here, including the very scene that made me want to write this fanfic back years ago, when I first had the idea. You'll probably know it when you see it. It really is a pretty obvious thing to build a fanfic around.
> 
> I don't want to give away too much, however, obviously, editing this epilogue to my liking took me quite a bit of time, moving around, changing and deleting scenes until I finally had something workable. That said, the editing process isn't the only reason this took a while to get out. While I was working on the epilogue, I realized that there's one crucial (to me) aspect of this version of Emil's post-game life that this fic really didn't go into as much as I would have liked it to and... well, let's just say, I ended up writing a short prequel to this fanfic. A One-Shot called "Gradient". I haven't edited it yet, but once I've done so, probably the coming weekend, I'll upload it to both, my Fanfiction Net and Ao3 accounts as a separate story. Once that's done, I'll officially consider this "saga" complete for now, though I might add a fluff One-Shot or two to it every year for DotnW's anniversary. We'll see. For now, I'm very happy with what I've written...
> 
> Everyone, thank you so much for following and reading "Hazelnuts and Bitter Herbs", one of the few multichapter fanfictions I've ever finished and published in their eternity. It was a fun journey, and one I'm very happy I got to share for you. I hope you enjoyed it at least as much as I did.
> 
> Hoping to see you all again in another story one day and wishing you all nothing but the best,
> 
> Nenilein

They once told him that ‘Castagnier’ was an old Sylveranti word meaning ‘Thorny Shell’. He hadn’t really used that name ever since the end of his last journey. Now he was finally laying it to rest.

There was a small, modest grave underneath a chestnut tree in the Palmacosta cemetery. Emil and Flora knelt in front of it, offering their prayers. The air was heavy with incense and the scent of the flower bouquet they had brought.

“Marta said she’ll have it arranged with the Governor-General that _his_ name is added to the tombstone soon,” he said.

Flora nodded, “Yes. That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

“I… I won’t ask you to forgive me for taking it.”

“No, it’s alright. To be honest, I think somewhere inside I already knew long ago that you’re not her son.”

“…Yeah. I figured so.”

Emil rose from the ground and stood next to the woman who wasn’t his aunt, because he never had an ‘aunt’ to begin with. Like watching the second-hand of a clock move, they let time pass emptily and in silence, giving the dead buried here the respect they’d been denied for too long.

“Did you… ever meet my sister?” Flora asked eventually.

“Only once,” he answered. “The memory is vague, but I think her eyes and the way she spoke to me back then reminded me of someone I once thought of like a mother. That’s probably why… my mind did what it did…”

Yes, he had long realized that somewhere in his head, the face of the dying Lana Castagnier had ended up blended into the expression of Martel as she was pierced by the arrow. He probably would never be able to fully untangle these two memories from one another. Still, this awareness of how his recollections had been distorted gave him context. Little by little he had been able to identify and discern the ‘true forms’ of the false memories he used to think of as his ‘childhood’, whether they were things he once watched humans do, altered scenes from the time he spent traveling with Mithos, or just stories people once told him.

“I’m not surprised,” Flora laughed a little. “My big sister always had a way of leaving an impression. She was as headstrong and decisive as she was smart…”

“No wonder you said I didn’t resemble her.”

“Yes. Back then, you really didn’t.”

“Mhm. I’m sure.”

“But I think Lana would probably have taken a liking to the boy you are now.”

Emil lowered his head and quietly sighed. “I’m sorry that I’m not really your nephew.”

Flora glanced away. “…It’s sad, knowing that there’s really nothing of hers left in this world anymore. I… I wish I could have said goodbye to her. But what’s done is done. All I can hope is that wherever she and her family are now, they’re happy.”

Emil nodded, “I’m sure they are. They’re together, after all.”

Flora couldn’t keep holding her tears back for long after this. For the first time ever, Emil saw her cry. While he didn’t feel comfortable hugging the woman as he would have done for his close friends, he put a hand on Flora’s shoulder and told her that it was okay to grief. Lana Castagnier had been dead for over 3 years. It was high time her sister had a proper chance to mourn her and the nephew she never got to meet.

Eventually the sobbing stopped. When Flora lifted her head again, the both of them decided it was time to go back. Emil began to extinguish the candles and incense they had lit. As he did so, the light of the flames got caught on the surface of a small, silver ring on his left hand, bringing it to Flora’s attention.

“…You proposed to the girl?”

He snorted. “ _She_ proposed to _me_. At least ten times, actually. That time she just happened to have brought rings. …I was a bit surprised by that part, actually.”

“And you said yes?”

“Every single time.”

The candles were out and stored away in the small bag he had brought. One last time, the boy gently touched the gravestone.

“When Marta and I are married, I’ll be taking her surname,” he said. “I want to let the Castagniers have their peace… I am very thankful for what they shared with me, even if it was by accident, but I want to give the real ‘Emil Castagnier’ his name back. I just hope he’ll forgive me for keeping part of it for myself…”

Flora laughed, “’Emil’ is a fairly common name. I doubt anybody would fault you for choosing it as your own. At very least, I don’t.”

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear this, Flora…”

They left the graveyard after that exchange, stepping back out into the bustling town of Palmacosta in quiet reverence. The last thing Flora said to Emil when they checked into separate rooms in the Inn that afternoon, was:

“Even though you’re not my nephew, Emil, I am glad I got to meet you.”

At night he silently thanked Emil Castagnier for the name he’d lent him, and Aster Laker for the words of courage he had left for him. It were moments like these when he resolved even harder to do his best and live, for the sake of those two boys, too.

There were many such moments as the years passed, and each time one occurred, he again resolved anew to make his life worth it. With every new experience he made, he realized how long a way he still had to go to fully understand himself or what it meant to live in this world. It was funny how after thousands of years of being alive on this planet it was only now that he realized how little he really knew about it. That feeling, the ability to learn a little bit more about the world and about himself every day, became something he relished. As Marta grew and aged, he got grow along with her and all their friends, not only in the changes he let happen to his physical body, but also in spirit.

They got married when Marta was 21. Though they’d wanted a small ceremony, their plans got a little derailed by the sheer number of people who wanted to be present for the festivities. In the end it all mutated into a huge, public affair in Meltokio, followed by a reception in the ballroom of the Wilder estate. Sometimes it was a little hard to tell Zelos’ generosity apart from his need to show off.

Still, even if it hadn’t been for the meddling of one outrageously rich Chosen One, Emil and Marta’s intentions of a private wedding would probably have been doomed anyway. By the time they actually got around to tying the knot, they were already both well-known public figures. Marta had made a name for herself campaigning for the unification of Sylverant under a new system of government that would heavily involve the public in legislative decisions. That sort of system, she reasoned, would prevent any one individual from becoming powerful enough to force the country’s citizens into unwanted violent conflict the way a king or military commander might. She knew her idea wasn’t perfect, and she relied heavily on the advice of friends such as Regal, Zelos and Raine to come up with the finer points of her political intentions, but they were already making definite progress with increasing the communication between the individual town-administrations all over Sylverant, which had greatly improved efficiency of trade and information-exchange and, thus, stimulated local economies and growth. Before long, Marta had, alongside Lloyd, become one of the unofficial “ambassadors of Sylverant” recognized by the Tethe’allan King.

“I think what we’re doing right now is probably what Daddy and I should have been doing from the start,” she’d tell Emil one day during dinner. “I’m just sad he won’t get to help as much as wants to.”

They kept in contact with Brute Lualdi in Meltokio, regularly visiting him and informing him of the current state of things in the world. The influence of the Heroes of Regeneration in Meltokio, especially that of Regal and Zelos, had helped avert a potential death sentence, but it was highly unlikely that Marta’s father would ever be allowed to leave imprisonment again. Only for Marta’s and Emil’s wedding they managed to acquire a special permit that allowed him to attend, handcuffed flanked by guards, but still, he was there, and he looked very happy.

Emil didn’t exactly remain unknown around the world either. There were quite a few more incidents along the way that resulted in him having to use his powers or summon the Centurions or monsters in public, and while some people, especially those that had fallen off from traditional believes, never saw him as more than the ‘mysterious consort of Lady Lualdi’, word of his true nature made the rounds across the globe. No story ever seemed to get the details 100% right, but the idea that ‘Ambassador Lualdi’s consort’ was really a Summon Spirit in human form had quickly become the consensus among followers of the Sylverant branch of the Church of Martel. It took a while for Emil to stop being uncomfortable with the reverence many people insisted on treating him with or with the odd questions that visitors to Luin would often ask him. They were usually nothing like the questions the elves that used to come to the Kharlan-Tree would pose to Ratatosk, and more often than never they concerned the ‘goddess’ Martel – And, that was where inspiration struck.

“A lot of the corruption in the Church of Martel is based on the fact that its teachings are based in lies and misunderstandings, right? But… I know the truth. If people become more aware of what really grants Mana to the world, maybe they’ll try and be a bit more responsible with how they use it in the future. I know, it might not really do much. But if sharing what I know is something I can do to help improve things, I want to try.”

So he went to the churches and chapels around the world and told the priests about ‘Martel’. That she lived in the World Tree and granted Mana to nature. That she could only give ‘life’ to the world as long as those given life used it responsibly and treated the world around them with the respect it deserves. If humans, half-elves and, yes, elves, didn’t find a way to live together and use the gifts given to them responsibly, one day the World Tree would disappear, and Martel and the Summon Spirits would disappear with it. If that came to pass, then no “Chosen One” could ever bring the Tree and Spirits back. It would need nothing short of a miracle to undo the damage to the world. That was why on this journey called ‘life’, nothing mattered more than to appreciate the world and the people in it just as much as Martel herself did. He knew, the chances that his reinterpretation of the Martel-faith would fundamentally change how people felt about and treated the planet was low, but it existed, and he decided to place just a little bit of trust in it. Since his ‘divine’ powers were a well-known fact among the followers of the church, many believed what Emil preached, especially the most sincere priests, and a minor cult worshipping the World Tree as the seat of Martel quickly formed.

An unfortunate side-effect of this development was that Luin, as the rumors had predicted, morphed into quite the destination for Martel-pilgrims, much to the glee of those involved in the local tourism business, and the annoyance of Mr. and Mrs. Lualdi, who often found it difficult to find even a moment of peace among their busy schedules and often unwanted visitors. It was a fulfilling, but stressful path they had chosen to walk together. They sometimes had fights over it. Occasionally, awful fights. But they were never bad enough to drive them apart for long. Decades went by, Emil grew out his hair, Marta began pinning hers up, but the two of them never grew apart. They were too good a team to ever consider letting go of one another.

Time kept passing. The number of Exspheres in the world kept decreasing with every stop Colette and Lloyd made on their journey, the philanthropic expenditures of the Lezareno Group grew with each new idea Regal and Presea put into motion, the global hatred for half-elves weakened ever so little with each passionate speech or presentation Raine and Genis held, and the acceptance of Sylverant and Mizuho as cultures and sovereign states became stronger with each bid Zelos and Sheena made to Tethe’allan king. Sylverant, slowly, but surely, grew together into a state union. The Church of Martel lost power, but, in the process, gained integrity. Every day, the world’s dependency on Mana lessened. And thus passed one year… two years… ten years… 30 years… 70 years…

Many stories better told another time happened in those years. Countless happy memories, sad incidents, fortunate encounters, and tragedies. Emil watched many friends, even people he had come to consider family, pass away with time.

And then, eventually, it was Marta’s turn.

He sat by her bed and could feel it was happening, because for the time being humans were still dependent on Mana, and he could feel that Mana losing its grip on her body and soul. Her breathing grew shallower and shallower.

“Marta… Marta, please don’t go…” he whispered, holding her hand. “Please… I… I can’t go where you’re going. You know that, right? Please…don’t go yet…”

A lifetime had passed, and people called them ‘old’ now, but to Emil, Marta was still as beautiful as she’d always been, her graceful form framed by her long, now silver hair. Yes, a lifetime had passed, but to him it had been much too short. There was still so much he still wanted to say to her, so much he still wanted to do. Tears dropped from his eyes and he prayed that maybe, just maybe they’d pass a piece of his life on to her. As long as Mana existed, he would always have plenty of life left in him, but hers was fading fast. Once it was gone, it could not be brought back…

“ _E…Em…il…_ ”

She didn’t have enough strength left to grip his hand properly, but he could feel she was trying.

“I’m here,” he mumbled through his tears. “I’m here, Marta…! I’ll always be…”

“ _E…mil… thank you…_ ” whispered Marta’s thin voice. “ _We made this world… so much more beautiful together… didn’t we?_ ”

“We’re not done yet...!” panic crept into his voice. “There’s still a lot more we can do…! A lot more _you_ can do. This world… still needs you. I…”

‘ _I still need you’. ‘I’ll always need you’_. There was no need to say these words, because he knew that she knew. There was no way she wouldn’t understand the look in his eyes, the way he held on to her hand for dear life. That’s why it hurt so much, when just a second later, her eyes clouded, and she began to mumble nonsense phrases and random words that he couldn’t make sense of. This had been happening a lot as of late. Human bodies were fragile and often as they broke down, so too did their minds. Soon, hers might be too broken to fix. And then, he would never see her again.

“Marta… Marta, please, stay with me…!” He knew it was futile. He’d always known. But knowing reality and accepting it were two different things. “You… You can’t die yet. How can it be your time to die, when Presea and Zelos and Sheena are still alive…?”

Yes, why did Marta have to die now, when there were still others, humans who were older than her, who would go on living? It wasn’t fair. Nothing about this was fair.

“Right… Sheena…! If, you die now… that would break our pact with her…! That wouldn’t be right, would it…?”

Maybe she was too weak to understand what he was saying. She just looked at him, eyes misty, yet there was a soft, calm smile on her face. Finally, after helplessly starring at her face for long enough, something occurred to Emil.

“…The pact…”

He brushed away the hair falling across Marta’s face. There, hidden under strands of silver, he found it; the jewel he’d once given to her when she was young. All these years its presence had simply been a fact of their lives and the bond they shared, and he’d rarely paid it much mind, but now…

“If Exspheres can draw in and remove human souls from their bodies, then my Cores should be able to do the same…!” There was a hopeful glimmer in Emil’s eyes. He pulled Marta’s hand close to his chest. “D-Do you see, Marta!? I… I can take you in! I can save you from this body and make you a part of me! Then we’d never have to be apart. We’d be one, forever, and-“

“Emil…” He finally felt Marta’s hand gripping back, firmly. That smile was still on her face, but her eyes were clear. “…It’s enough. Enough, Emil.”

He felt his body shake at her words. “But… Marta…!”

The despair in his voice didn’t seem to sway her.

“I’m human…,” she gently whispered to him.

Emil lowered his head. Yes. She was. She would never not be.

“I… I want to meet my mother and father…” she kept whispering. “I…I’m sure… they must’ve been… lonely without me…”

How lonely it had to be, to exist in a world without her. He’d always feared to imagine it.

“There is so much… I want to tell them. About this world… About us…”

He buried his face in his palms. Why did it have to be now? Why couldn’t she stay with him and forge more tales of the both of them?

“…I promise… I’ll tell them everything… you did for me… So, they’ll know… when we meet again…”

He looked up.

“Marta…” Tears welled in Emil’s wide-open eyes. “Marta, I can’t… Where you’re going… I can’t-“

“Let’s meet again, Emil…” her hand was still warm. “Even if it’s… at the end of the world… I’ll wait…”

At the end of the world… Would there be a place where they could see each other again beyond it? He couldn’t know. Neither could she. This was all just speculation. No better than delusions. Even the Spirits had no way of knowing what lies beyond death. And yet, when he looked into Marta’s eyes, he so dearly wanted to believe that she knew something he didn’t know, and that her words were true.

“ _I… love you, Emil…_ ” she muttered, closing her eyes.

“I love you, Marta,” he told her through heavy tears. “I always will.”

Her breath stilled, then ceased, and then he couldn’t sense her presence anymore. It wasn’t her anymore, laying on that bed before him. Just an empty shell, like a doll. Something that couldn’t smile at him the way she did. He wasn’t sure how long he refused to leave the bedside, crying and crying, calling her name over and over, until he’d exhausted himself too much to make another sound.

He dissolved the pact quietly that night, taking back the part of his power he’d given Marta. He could swear he still sensed fragments of her warmth in that part of himself he’d reclaimed, but he couldn’t know for sure if that wasn’t just hopeful thinking. He might never really know. This entire lifetime, the life of the person who had come to be known as ‘Emil Lualdi’, he’d continued to use Aster Laker’s appearance, letting it grow and change into a possible version of what that boy’s body might have become if he had had the chance to grow old. Now that this ‘lifespan’ was over, it was time to leave that body behind. He cast off the appearance of an old man and left a shell of it behind with Marta’s body. That way, nobody in the world of humans and half-elves would try to look for ‘Emil’. Only their friends would know the truth.

All that was left now was to go on living as the Summon Spirit Ratatosk, doing his duty protecting the world from the Ginnungagap.

“Well then… Which name do you want me to call you by?” Richter asked him one quiet evening spent sitting back on back. “Seeing how you’ve ‘killed’ Emil… Would you still be comfortable being addressed that way?”

The Spirit thought about that question for a bit.

“I get it… You don’t want to call the one you will be spending the majority of your lifetime with by the name of your best friend’s murderer…”

“I am more concerned about you,” Richter claimed. “You’ve spent more than 70 years as Emil. Are you really ready to leave that identity behind?”

“It will be a part of me forever,” said Ratatosk. “But ‘Emil Lualdi’, the human, lies buried alongside his wife Marta. Their tale has ended. That’s how it should be.”

“So, you wish to let the memories of the both of you rest with her. I understand… Ratatosk.”

The Spirit turned his head a little, looking at Richter from the corners of his eyes, “If you want to, you can give me a new name.”

“A new name...?” Richter paused, then laughed a little. “I’ll think about it.”

Ratatosk leaned back a little, “Or you could just keep calling me ‘Emil’. Really, it wouldn’t change… who I am.”

Who he was would always be an incredibly, incredibly lucky person, because he got to meet Marta, and he got to meet Richter. His pain never really went away, not the pain of losing his Tree and Mithos’ betrayal, nor the pain of losing Marta, but here, in the companionship of the Centurions and a person who understood his history and his plight, it was bearable. Richter would let him cry into his shoulder at night, without judgment or demands and, eventually, after many years of shared games and listening to each other’s opinions and grievances, they reached the point where the Spirit could do the same for Richter. Hurt couldn’t be erased, but it could be endured with a friend, regardless of how unlikely that friendship might be.

Of course, Richter wasn’t the only friend still left to him among mortals. Sometimes, when Ratatosk left the Ginnungagap to catch a glimpse of the state of the world, he would run into the Sage siblings.

“How is Richter doing these days?” asked Genis Sage, a proud half-elven scholar 246 years of age.

“He has been trying to learn how to cook,” said a man who didn’t really exist. Ratatosk wore a disguise, allowing him and Genis to sit together in this café in peace. “Says he’s getting tired of my dishes. Just between you and I, I think it irks him that there’s something people do that I’m still better at than him.”

Genis snorted, “It took him 200 years to start learning? Oh boy.”

“Better than _having been learning_ for 200 years without any progress. By the way, how’s your sister?”

“Okay. Point taken.” The two of them shared a laugh. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same, they supposed. “But just in case, that question was more than pure rhetoric: Raine has been in high spirits. Our research on Boltzman’s techniques and the Unicorns’s rebirth cycle is progressing nicely. At this rate we should be able to adapt some basic Healing Artes for energy-sources other than Mana within the millennium.”

“That sounds promising. In how many other fields do you believe you’ll find ways to phase out use of Mana?”

“We’re not certain yet. It would be easier to tell if nature’s reliance on Mana was already a thing of the past, but-“

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid by the time I get done rewriting the law, you won’t have much time left.”

“No, I understand. Don’t rush. Raine and I will make sure to document everything so others can follow up on our research.”

“Please do. The less strain human progress will put on Yggdrasil the better.”

“It would be great if we could keep the Tree alive forever this time,” Genis nodded.

“Yes,” Ratatosk agreed. “At least till the end of this world.”

Even if they didn’t yet know what lies beyond that end. One of them might not even find out. Long-lived as they were, even a half-elf’s life wasn’t infinite.

“You know, Emil…” Genis brushed some hair out of his face. For a moment Ratatosk saw a flash of a youthful light that he hadn’t seen in the while behind the heavy lenses of Genis’ glasses. “I really need to thank you.”

“Why? Where’s this coming from?” asked Ratatosk.

“For still being here. Still being my friend,” said Genis. “When I was a kid, I was always afraid that one day I would be the only one left. Other than Mithos I never had any half-elven friends my age, so when we failed to save him, this fear grew in me that eventually everyone would either abandon me or… pass.”

Without meaning to, Ratatosk let his eyes wander away from Genis. Oh, if there ever was a fear he could relate to… In any case, Genis continued speaking.

“When Lloyd died, there was a brief while when I thought my fears might be coming true. Everyone was growing old, and I stayed youthful… Even Presea had overtaken me eventually. And I knew, the chances that Raine would outlast me were slim. For a while I was selfish enough to wish that I might die before her.” The half-elf sighed. “But now… every time I find myself thinking those thoughts, I remind myself that you’re still here. Even in a world where almost nobody I knew back then is still alive, you’re still here, and just as I’ve asked you to, you keep coming back to visit me.” Genis smiled a grateful smile, “That’s why I need to thank you. Thank you, Emil, for not letting me be the last one left.”

_‘You’re cruel, Genis,’_ Ratatosk thought to himself, avoiding his friend’s line of sight, but never voicing the thought, because he knew better than to spoil this precious time for Genis.

A 1000 years passed in the world and in the Ginnungagap. A 1000 years of a single man’s life burning away slowly to keep the realm governed by the World Tree and its Mana separate from the demonic depths of Niflheim. And then, it was done. The world’s reliance on Mana had been severed, its flow redirected towards the Gate to deter the demons. With a seal this powerful in place, as long as the Tree Yggdrasil was alive, the world would never need to fear being consumed by demons again.

The Spirit gazed upon his work, before turning to his companion with a smile, “…Richter. Richter, it’s done! The seal is complete. Now I can release you from this place.”

He wouldn’t get a response. It took the Spirit a few minutes to realize that he’d already heard the final words of the man he’d spent the last 900 years with.

“Richter…”

‘ _Aster would be proud of us._ ’ That was the last thing Richter ever said to him or anyone. After a millennium of having his Mana burned, his body hadn’t been able to last any longer. They’d both known that this might happen, but still, until the very end, Ratatosk had hoped that he would be able to show Richter the world everyone had built together just one time before he passed. Elves and those of their blood never really grew old. Aside from his now silver hair and a few stray wrinkles, Richter still looked as youthful as the day they had met. Gently, the Spirit touched the man’s pale cheeks.

“Give Aster and Marta my greetings,” he mumbled.

Aqua and Tenebrae helped bury him. They found a safe spot near where the town of Sybak used to be. There, they put up a monument. They knew that to the people living today, neither the image of the half-elf, nor his name would mean much of anything, but they were able to at least enshrine a part of his memory. Aqua carved Richter’s accomplishments onto the tomb. He wouldn’t be forgotten, not as long as they lived. And with that pledge, again, another tale ended.

The final time Ratatosk mingled with the mortal world was at the funeral of Genis Sage. Silently he stood in the back and listened as many humans and half-elves of high rank in the academic world stepped onto the podium one after another and spoke of the man’s feats, his discoveries and his ideals and activism. The Spirit himself didn’t give a eulogy. Nobody here knew who he was, especially not with the fake face he’d chosen to wear to blend into the crowd of people. He stayed to watch Genis’ coffin being lowered down into the same grave as his sister a few years before, then wordlessly shook hands with a few people exchanging condolences. Then, he left.

What followed were years of absolute silence. Only occasionally he’d exchange words or smiles with his Centurions. Far more often he would just quietly pet them when they offered him their company. And then, once he realized that he simply had no more words left to say, he made his way to the holy forest.

“It has been a while, Ratatosk.”

“…Martel.”

The two of them met in front of the World Tree, which had now grown tall enough to tower over them, as it was always meant to do.

There was a soft smile on Martel’s lips. “I owe you my thanks, Ratatosk. You’ve done this Tree and the world a great favor. I don’t know how to repay you for your selfless efforts.”

“There is one way you can.”

Light dance through the lush, green foliage of Yggdrasil’s canopy.

“So, you’ve made up your mind?” asked Martel.

“The Centurions tried to stop me, but… yes,” he nodded. “The power to administrate Mana should not be split across two distinct Spirits. That is not the way it was meant to be.”

“I think our cooperation has been functioning well, though. Is there really a need to change this arrangement?”

His eyes betrayed the excuses he was making. Ratatosk sighed, “…I thought I might be able to go back to the way I used to be. But I know now that my place just isn’t among Spirits anymore. I’ve gotten too close to people. The way I am now, ‘eternity’, even just a single one, feels too long to endure…”

“I see…”

“You understand, right? All the human souls within you, each of them must have people they yearn to see again, beyond the end of this world.”

Martel closed her eyes and nodded, “Yes. I do.”

“Right now, that feeling itself is the place I belong. So, please, Martel… Take me home.”

She understood. Though not without melancholy in her expression, she offered the older Spirit her hand. He took it.

“Once it is done, the process cannot be reversed,” she reminded him. “Even if I should choose to split myself into aspects, your existence, as it was, can never be restored.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m ready.”

He chose to believe that, regardless the form he’d continue to exist in, at the end of the road Marta would be waiting for him. That thought was his solace. He just did not want to feel alone until the time came.

With warmth and kindness Martel took Ratatosk into her arms, holding him tight and offering comfort. He let himself get lost in her gentleness, surrendered himself and sunk into it, until he felt himself melt away into her embrace. 

There now was one single Spirit under the World Tree’s canopy, solemnly mustering her hands in the quiet of her forest.

“One day, at the end of the world… I will make sure our tales are told,” she whispered to herself.

Hearing a sound rustling the leaves of her Tree, the Spirit turned towards the forest and gazed into it. Out of its shade approached eight figures, one by one coming onto the clearing and lining up before her. They bowed to her in reverence.

“Lady… Martel…” the frontmost one spoke.

“…Oh Tenebrae, my loyal friend.” She knelt down and gently caressed the Centurion’s head. “Please, forgive me. I know how much you tried to dry his tears. I hope you won’t blame yourself for our weakness.”

“No, I understand. You were never weak… my Lord.”

Martel mustered the Centurions, _her_ Centurions, with gratitude, one by one. Then she rose onto her feet.

“Everyone, let us go. Let us make this world so many have spent their lives protecting flourish and bloom yet more beautifully.”

“Yes, Lady Martel.”

And so, the tale of Martel, Mithos Yggdrasil and the Summon Spirit Ratatosk, too, after many thousands years, finally came to an end.

* * *

Now was the Age of Legends. Many wars had been fought, many countries risen and fallen. Of the stories now known to mankind, only few still existed in their original form. Much of history had been forgotten. Many tales. Many names.

But the Spirits still lived in this world. Martel kept existing. And though it was often a solitary existence, sometimes she got to enjoy the presence of those that had sworn themselves to protect Yggdrasil and its world.

“Hey, hey, _hey now_ , Falken, what’cha think you’re doing, just running off? You want me to freeze you to the ground?”

“Aah, no, no, no! Martel, saaave me!!”

“Martel can’t save you, dummy, I’m your Mom! There’ll never be a goddess stronger than me in _your_ world!”

“AAAAHHHH!”

Arche Burklight’s five-years-old son squirmed and squealed in his mother’s grip, trying to wriggle himself free, but his attempts were very much futile. Martel couldn’t help but chuckle watching the scene.

“What a lively child,” she commented.

“He’s a handful!” Arche complained. “Argh, I don’t know how you and Mint can just stand there smiling when you see this! I swear, one of these days this kid’s gonna dart off across the Valhalla plains on me!”

“I see, he takes after his mother.”

“Hey! Watch it.”

There wasn’t any big, important reason Arche and her son were here in the Forest of Spirits today. She’d just felt like taking her child out into nature, so she’d taken him here. That wasn’t unusual for them. The living members of Heroes of Eternity had made a habit of visiting the forest and checking on the state of Yggdrasil whenever possible. It was their way of making sure that all they had fought for across time and space wouldn’t be in vain. Of course, Martel’s company was always an enjoyable bonus.

“But, hey… It’s really sad, isn’t it?” Arche said, once she had gotten her child to quiet down and found a calm moment to talk to Martel.

“What is sad?” asked Martel.

Arche looked at the grass beneath her feet. “That even if Cress and the others might find the time to come along visit next time… Claus will never be here with us again.”

“Arche…”

The half-elven woman raised her head and hands and dug the toes of her bare feet into the ground a little. It was as if she was trying to connect the earth and sky through her body.

“I know, I know. I’m lucky. I got to know Claus and be friends with him almost his entire life, and now I get to spend life with Cress and the others. With Chester. I really shouldn’t be complaining. But sometimes, it still feels wrong. We were all a team, right? So why can’t he be here now? Why can’t Suzu be here with us yet?” Arche paused. “Why… will I be the only one left in the end…?”

The woman, who’s youthful looks betrayed the over one-hundred years she’d already spent in this world, looked to Martel for answers, but the Summon Spirit could only look back at her with deep, sad eyes. Arche sighed… then laughed

“Hah… Ahaha! This is silly. Why am I telling you this? Of course, a great Spirit wouldn’t understand what it’s like…”

“No. I understand.”

Arche looked back at Martel again. The Spirit’s expression was sincere. Just for a few seconds, the two women stood there, looking at each other quietly.

“Hey… Martel?” Arche asked eventually. “You’re part of nature, right? So, I figure you know a lot about how the world works and stuff…”

“Yes, I do.”

“Is there something like reincarnation?”

Martel was stumped. She had never been asked that question before.

“Or some other way the people who’ve left keep watching us?” Arche continued. “I don’t know, I’ve just kept thinking… Maybe Claus is really still here? Maybe Suzu is already here! And we just have to search and find them. Then, we could all be together. We could be a team again!”

Hope gleaming in her eyes, Arche searched Martel’s expression for confirmation of her theories. But after a while she had to realize that she would find none, and her smile fell.

“I… don’t know,” Martel admitted. “The fate of the souls of the departed is not my domain.”

So not a ‘No’. But not a ‘Yes’ either. Not even a ‘Maybe’. Arche slumped to the ground. In short distance, her son, unaware of his mother’s conversation, had wandered off to play with the Summon Spirit’s familiars in the bushes, but Arche didn’t notice. She pulled her knees close to her chest and hunched over, defeated.

“Ahaha… I should have known. Would’ve been too nice to be true…” She looked over to where she heard her son’s laughing voice. The child was gathering nuts and berries from the bushes, watched and aided by one of Martel’s creatures. “One day, Chester will be gone, too. I keep thinking about when my Dad died. I’ve spent more time without him in the world than with him now, but it still hurts. When Chester dies… It’ll be just the same. For me, and for our son.”

Arche looked up. Again, she posed a question at the Spirit, “Martel… When does it stop hurting?”

Martel closed her eyes, “At the point where you find the strength live in the present, while accepting the wounds of the past.”

“When do I reach that point?”

“…It might be never.”

“I… I see…” Arche let her head hang.

“But even so…” Martel put a hand on her shoulder. “This world is wonderful. You cannot forget that, no matter how many tragedies befall you, there will always be those that will understand you and walk by your side.”

“How can you say that…? How can you say, ‘It will be worth it’, if you think the pain isn’t going away…?”

Arche, strong woman that she was, was still holding back her tears at this point. It was here that she felt a tugging on her sleeve.

“Mama.” Falken had come back. He proudly presented his little hat, filled to the brim with fruit, nuts and herbs, to his mother. “For you.”

Wiping some of the wet out of her eyes, Arche turned to her child, “Ah! Did you gather all of those? Nice work! And you know how to share with a lady, too! Someone’s been raised well, heh.”

Arche smiled at Falken and he smiled back at her. Out of his hat, he took a single nut.

“Mama. Eat!” he insisted.

“Huh? Why?”

“Because, you look sad,” he said. “This will make you better!”

For a moment, Arche looked down at her little boy and it seemed like she was about to cry again. She nodded, took the hazelnut he’d offered her and ate it.

“Eheheh… You’re right, this is nice! It’s sweet…”

Falken’s face lit up. He grabbed into his hat again.

“Mama, take more!”

Arche made a face, “Falken, no, that’s peppermint. It’s bitter!”

“But it smells so good!”

In the end, there was no resisting the charms of her own offspring. Reluctantly, Arche sighed, accepted the leaf offered to her and bit into it. She forced a smile, but her eyes were watering.

“Mmm… _Mhmmm…! Heal…thy…!!_ ”

“Yay! I made Mama healthy!!”

Arche felt the strong need to punch a certain healer in the arm the next time they met, for no reason other than said healer’s name. Behind herself, she could hear Martel laughing.

“Hmpf! Not funny,” Arche complained.

But Martel kept laughing, “Why? Better to find joy in the sweetness of moments like these, than to let the bitterness of life bring you down. Right?”

The half-elf was quiet. She felt as if she understood what the Spirit was trying to tell her. Right… Right, she had Falken. There used to be her father, and Rhea and Claus, and now she had Chester and Falken, Cress and also Mint. One day, she would have Suzu and Falken. And then, it would be just Falken and her. But no matter how many times she found and lost them and how bitter the pain that brought would be, it wouldn’t change that this would always be the world where they made sweet memories together.

Sweet, beautiful memories of this wonderful, bittersweet world.

A smiling Martel rose her voice in the clearing, “Everyone, gather around!”

The Spirits’s familiar, one for each of Mana’s elements, heeded their mistress’ call, forming a circle around her in front of the World Tree. Arche and Falken, both curious, joined the circle as well. They watched with heightened attention as Martel took into her hands two items: A wooden pan-flute that had been hidden under her robes and a white lily she’d worn pinned into her hair. She presented them to her waiting audience.

“Let me tell you the tale of the boy who almost destroyed the world to defeat his despair, and the girl who fell in love with a Summon Spirit.”

And she told them her story.


End file.
